


You Again

by Oliviet



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Post Season 3, Pre movie, Some Fluff, Some angst, going for a bit of a slow burn here, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliviet/pseuds/Oliviet
Summary: "It’s the scent that throws her off her axis first. The unmistakable smell of that cologne, the one she used to wrap herself up in and curl into. The one she used to hate as soon as it invaded her air space. The one she later sought after for comfort and release.Logan’s cologne."During her final year of law school at Columbia, Veronica runs into Logan during Fleet Week. She finds herself faced with the choice to continue on with her life without him, or to let him back in to try and make things work again.
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 191
Kudos: 445





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the lyrics to "Sad, Beautiful, Tragic" by Taylor Swift used at the beginning of each chapter. Neither does Taylor so that's a problem. (Mini rant to let artists own their own work.)
> 
> Anyway, this story is set about a year or so before the movie. Enjoy!

_Long handwritten note, deep in your pocket_

_Words, how little they mean, when you’re a little too late_

Veronica groans at the sound of the alarm. She’d just finished her last final of the semester the day before and she had been looking forward to taking the day to sleep in. Having a live-in boyfriend with a full-time job was currently ruining that plan.

“Do you have to keep the volume on that so loud?” she grumbles, trying to cover her head with her pillow.

“Yes, or I won’t hear it,” Piz answers, placing a kiss to her shoulder before rolling over to turn off the alarm. “Good morning to you too.”

“Not morning,” she mumbles. “Still bedtime.”

“Well enjoy the beginnings of your last summer vacation ever,” he tells her sliding out of bed. “The real world is no fun. Trust me.”

She huffs, yanking the pillow off her head and rubbing at her eyes. “When have you ever known me to sit around and do nothing? I’ve been in the real world since high school, Piz. Life comes at you fast in Neptune.”

“Well it hits a little harder out here in New York City. You told me to remind you to call Preston and Burke today about that internship. Now that I’ve told you, my to do list is done.”

“If that’s your whole to do list, the real world’s got nothing on me.”

He laughs as he closes the door to the bathroom behind him. She looks over at the clock. 7:15 AM. She really has no desire to be awake right now, but even with classes over for the semester, she still has plenty she needs to get done. She needs to pin down an internship or law clerk job or anything really that would help get her foot in the door with a firm after she graduates next spring. And the fact that she hasn’t found one yet is leaving her feeling a little more than unsettled.

She spends her morning, well into her afternoon, researching and making calls and sending e-mails. When she finds herself trying to slip into one of her fake accents from her P.I. days while speaking to the secretary at Miller and Associates, she knows she’s in desperate need of a break.

Veronica decides that what she really needs is to get out of her apartment. Maybe find something to eat or at least some caffeine. It isn’t until she gets on the L train that she realizes what this weekend is the start of: Fleet Week. An influx of people walking around in uniform, taking up taxis and seats on the subway. She’s sure there’s always some sort of influx of tourists in the city at any given time, but this week just seems to make them more noticeable. She makes a mental note to avoid the tourist areas even more than usual this week.

When she gets off at her stop and starts heading in the direction of her new favorite café, she notices that she wasn’t successful in avoiding the crowds. There’s a group of men, dressed in pristine white uniforms heading in her direction. On top of that, the area seems to be more crowded than usual. She chalks it up to finals being over for more than just Columbia Law School, allowing all of the previously holed up students to be out in force. And it’s finally not raining after a week’s worth of it which is probably adding to the crowd too.

She’s too busy trying to peek into the café to see what kind of line she’s dealing with, that she doesn’t notice the crowd of people heading in her direction until one of them brushes up against her shoulder.

It’s the scent that throws her off her axis first. The unmistakable smell of that cologne, the one she used to wrap herself up in and curl into. The one she used to hate as soon as it invaded her air space. The one she later sought after for comfort and release.

_Logan’s cologne._

She tells herself she’s crazy. It wasn’t some custom-made scent, lots of men probably wear it. And this is New York City. Plenty of rich men around here who can afford it. (She’d checked the price once, looking for gift ideas for him, it wasn’t cheap).

But still, her eyes scan the crowd, searching for his tall, slender frame. She has no idea why he’d be here, let alone during the insanity that is Fleet Week.

Unless –

What had Mac told her? He’d joined the military, hadn’t he? What was it? Coast Guard? Navy?

_Why are you getting your hopes up, Veronica? You don’t actually want to run into him._

And then she sees him. Standing across the street outside of a bar with a group of men all dressed in pristine white uniforms. She feels like the wind has been knocked out of her. She’s having trouble breathing.

It’s not until some passerby bumps into her shoulder and yells at her to haul ass that she realizes she’s been rooted in the middle of the sidewalk for a solid few minutes.

Leave, she should leave. He didn’t see her, and he never has to. But she finds herself wondering if he caught wind of her as he passed by. He always said she smelled like marshmallows, but he would never tell her if it was her shampoo or body wash or something else that gave him that scent. She hadn’t changed any of her products. Did the smell of marshmallows send him spinning the same way his cologne had to her?

Veronica can’t stop staring at him. He looks good, his build more muscular than she remembers. And he looks…happy. She really shouldn’t stick around and alter that.

But then he glances up across the street and she _knows_ he sees her. Fully knows he’s caught her staring. She wants to run. If she’s the one to get away first, she doesn’t have to know what his gut reaction to seeing her is. Because if he looks away and pretends he didn’t see her, even after all these years apart, it would gut her. And she hates that. Hates that he still has this power over her. She should be over him. She _was_ over him. But then she caught a whiff of that damn cologne…

Logan’s still looking her. His…military buddies, because honestly the uniform color means nothing to her, keep chatting and laughing around him. But he’s out of it, his focus now placed solely on her.

Her throat feels like it’s run dry. What would she even say to him? Make pointless small talk about the weather and what they’re up to these days? Part ways on neutral terms like their past means nothing? She wants that. Really, she does. But when the smell of him and the simplest catch of his eye sends her spiraling back to memories of her straddling him in his bed at The Grand, she knows it’s not going to be that simple.

And then he’s moving. Away from his friends and back toward the crosswalk, back towards her. She starts panicking, looking for somewhere she can duck into and hide or at least get some water because damn her mouth feels like sandpaper right now. But still she can’t move. All she can do is watch him get closer, simultaneously thinking back to the terrible way things ended between them and that moan he makes when she goes down on him.

What. Is. Happening.

“I thought I smelled marshmallows.”

That familiar curl of his lip in his smirk, she could cry at the sight of it.

“Lo-Logan,” she stammers. “Hi.”

“Fancy seeing you here.”

He’s still smirking at her. And she wants to wipe that look off of his face but she’s not sure if she wants to accomplish that by slapping him or by kissing him.

“I live here,” she says lamely, not as easily falling back into their old banter routine as he has.

He laughs at that. “Yeah, I know. Law School at Columbia, right?”

How does he know that when she can’t even remember what branch of the military he’s in?

“Yeah, I start my last year this fall. I um, how –”

“You look good, Veronica.”

Is he flirting with her? Is that what’s happening? Maybe she’s been with Piz for too long if she’s forgotten what simple flirting is.

“So do you.”

God, she’s blushing. She can feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. What she wouldn’t give for some giant distraction right about now. A police chase, a flash mob, anything.

“You okay?”

She hears the genuine concern in his voice and makes the mistake of looking him directly in the eyes. It’s all over for her after that.

“Logan, I –” Her voice wavers, her emotions getting the best of her. She doesn’t know where to start. She hasn’t seen or spoken to him in five years since she left for Stanford. Not since the night her dad had insisted on throwing her a going away party which Logan had declined invitation to and she’d found herself unable to keep from poking the bear.

_“Why aren’t you here?”_

_“God, Veronica, did you actually want me there? You made it pretty damn clear there’s nothing left between us.”_

_“I’m leaving Neptune tomorrow. For good.”_

_“Good for you.”_

_“You couldn’t even be bothered to come say goodbye?”_

_“No, I really couldn’t.”_

_“After everything –”_

_“After everything what? We tried, Veronica. We gave it our best shot. But we just don’t work together. Two people with trust issues as big as ours were never going to work out. I see that now and so should you. And I can’t be your friend. Not with knowing the ways in which I can get you to moan. Not with knowing what each of those moans sound like and what they mean. Not with knowing what it’s like to love you and be loved by you. So no, I don’t want to be at your party right now making small talk and acting like the past couple of years never happened just because you’re leaving. Have a nice life. Congrats on finally getting out of this hell hole.”_

She can still hear the dial tone ringing in her ear when Logan snaps her back to the present. “Veronica? Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she answers him softly. “For everything.”

His smirk is gone and she hates that she couldn’t play into his playful banter game for him. But her pain has won this round and she knows she wouldn’t have been able to mask it with jokes about him becoming a stand-up man when she wasn’t looking.

“You sure know how to skip right over small talk, huh?” He shakes his head with a small smile, before meeting her gaze again. “I am too. Sorry that is. For most of it.”

“Most of it?”

“Yeah I don’t take back punching out that guy who spread the sex tape around. The asshole deserved it.”

She smiles at that, shaking her head as her gaze drops down to the ground.

“Echolls! Stop trying to pick up chicks and get your ass back over here!” One of the guys from across the street yells.

“Friend of yours?” she asks, looking in their direction.

“Yeah, I suppose,” he says, trying to wave them off.

“Nah dude, you lost the bet! This rounds on you!”

“What was the bet?” she asks.

He looks from her to the guys and back again but doesn’t answer.

“You should go,” she says after his beat of silence. “He’s gonna lose his voice if he keeps trying to yell over city traffic.”

“We’d all be better off,” Logan mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Listen, I’m in town all week if you wanted to –”

“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea,” she cuts him off. “I don’t want to lie to Piz and he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear we’re hanging out.”  
  
“You’re still with Piz?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“Uh not still. Just again. We reconnected last year when he moved out here.”

“Lucky guy.”

“Logan –”

“Like I said, I’m here all week. Let me know if you change your mind. I assume you still have my number.”

He raises an eyebrow at her expectantly and she nods knowing that her phone contact, DO NOT ANSWER, was her way of not being able to delete him completely.

He starts back toward the crosswalk, calling over his shoulder at her as he walks away, “See you around, Bobcat.”

* * *

She can’t get the nickname out of her head. The way he had so casually tossed it around as though it wasn’t something he used to call her during sex. And then she can’t get the images of sex with him out of her head. All of the problems they had in their relationship never did extend to the bedroom. If anything, they used it as an escape, as a distraction, from everything else they had going on – from everything else they weren’t talking about.

But still… _Bobcat_? Now? All these years later on the middle of a crowded Manhattan sidewalk? He knew what he was doing when he called her that. But why did he? Why now?

“You seem distracted,” Piz tells her, catching her tearing the lettuce into much tinier shreds than you would want in a salad.

“I guess I am,” she concedes, looking down at her pile of shredded lettuce. “You can still stab these pieces with a fork, right?”

He laughs, grazing her shoulder with his fingertips as he walks past her. “I think we can manage.”

She decides to tell him, thinking maybe if she says it aloud and talks to her current boyfriend about it, she’ll stop picturing her ex-boyfriend naked.

“You’ll never guess who I ran into today,” Veronica says, moving around Piz in their small kitchen, continuing to try and get dinner started.

“Hmm,” he hums. “Oprah? Derek Jeter? No, no, don’t tell me. The Dali Lama?”

She takes a deep breath. “Logan.”

“Logan? Logan who? Wait – your Logan?”

 _Your Logan._ Why does that have her chest tightening?

“He’s not _my_ Logan,” she tells him. _Not anymore_ , she adds silently. “But yes, Logan Echolls.”

Piz bristles at the name. Guess the five years haven’t erased that bad blood either.

“What, is he stalking you now?”

“Piz,” she chastises. “He’s here for Fleet Week. He’s in the Navy or the Coast Guard or something.”

“Well that’s one way to take out your aggression.”

“Stop, okay?”

“Sorry,” he mutters, finally getting out of her way in the kitchen and sitting down at their small dinner table. “I’ve just never liked the guy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” she mutters back, dicing up a tomato. 

She finds herself wanting to defend Logan, even after years of blaming him. She can speak ill of him, sure. She’s earned that right. But when someone else tries to do it…

“So, did you guys talk long?” Piz asks.

“No, it was very brief, just in passing. His friends were waiting on him to buy the next round.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

She nearly misses her thumb as she brings the knife down again, her frustration with Piz mounting. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. But I didn’t want you to somehow find out anyway and think I was keeping things from you. We had a five-minute conversation on a public sidewalk. Check your jealousy at the door.”

“Why are you still so defensive of him?”

“I don’t know. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

He shakes his head, pulling out his phone. “Did you hear back about that state law clerk job, yet?”

Of course, he’s changing the subject. He always does this when they’re on the verge of a fight. She knows it’s not healthy for their relationship, but she always lets him get away with it. She never wants to fight any more than he does.

“No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“You should try reaching out again. They’d be crazy to not even consider you.”

“It’s only been two days, _Dad_ ,” she grits out, feeling more like she’s being chastised by her father instead of her boyfriend.

Piz lets out a frustrated sigh and flips his phone face down on the table. “He always does this to you.”

“Who does what?” she asks, starting to rinse the lettuce shreds for the salad.

“Logan. He gets you worked up and then you’re pissed off about everything.”

Her hands still under the running water and she feels her jaw clench. She knows what Logan does to her. She remembers all too well how their fights affected her overall mood. But he’s not the one she’s irritated with right now.

“You’re unbelievable,” she mutters shaking her head and finally removing the drenched lettuce out of the sink.

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes. You are. You’re the one who’s picking a fight with me right now. Me seeing him today is affecting you more than it’s affecting me.”

There’s the first lie. She hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Just not in the way Piz is assuming.

He lets out a long exhale. “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m the one who hasn’t figured out how to let go.”

“Just forget it, okay? Tell me about your day instead.”

She half listens to him talk about the up and coming musician he interviewed today while she finishes prepping dinner. It’s only when she realizes that she’s subconsciously left the red pepper slices on a separate plate instead of mixing them into the salad because _Logan_ hates them that she realizes just how much seeing him today affected her.

_Well shit._


	2. Chapter 2

_I stood right by the tracks, your face in a locket_

_Good girls, hopeful they’ll be and long they will wait_

She stares at her phone thumbing up and down through her contacts. She’d called more law firms already this morning, left more messages, sent more e-mails. And now she’s aimlessly bouncing back and forth between Wallace and DO NOT ANSWER in her contact list. She knows what she _should_ do. She knows that she should call Wallace and let him talk her out of this. Let him remind her that this is a very dumb idea.

She and Logan do not work. Their constant on again, off again relationship was proof of that. But it’s not like she’s looking for a relationship with him. She has Piz. And as frustrated as it made her last night, he was right. Seeing Logan always puts her in these moods she can’t ever seem to shake. There’s nothing healthy about it, and she often wonders if there ever was.

But she hovers too long over DO NOT ANSWER. She clicks on it, staring at the combination of numbers she used to know by heart. Five years ago? More like another lifetime ago.

_This is a bad idea, Veronica. Do not go there._

She pushes the button to call the number before she even realizes she’s done it. She holds her breath as it rings.

_What are you doing?_

The ringing stops.

“Less than 24 hours. I’m still that irresistible to you, huh?”

Her mouth goes dry again. She really has lost her ability to banter with him. She’s beginning to wonder how long it’s going to take her to get that back.

“I uh –” she stammers, grasping for a plausible reason for calling him.

_Think, Veronica, think. It shouldn’t be this hard. It never used to be._

“I realized I never asked what branch of the military you joined,” she says, finally putting together a coherent sentence. “Or why you did it.”

His laugh filters through, warm and familiar. “I joined the Navy. As to why though, that’s a bit of a longer story.”

“Well I’m available to listen.”

“Want to talk over coffee? I’m sure you of all people have hunted down the best cup in town.”

She knew this was going to happen if she called him. Logan has never been big on having long conversations over the phone. But still she hesitates over the offer. And annoyingly, he can still read her silence.

“It’s just coffee, Vee. Just two old friends catching up.”

Funny how he can condense everything that they were and everything that weren’t simply into the term “old friends.” “Old friends” haven’t seen each other naked. “Old friends” don’t go on for five years of radio silence and pick right back up where they left off. They don’t –

“I know you didn’t call me just to figure out what branch I was in.”

Of course he does. All these years later and it’s still like he has her running through his veins. How was she able to push him out of her system so easily? Or has she just been suppressing it all this time?

“How do you do that?” she asks.

“Do what?”

“Know me so well after all of this time.”

“You’re not someone who’s easy to forget.”

Her breath hitches in her throat. How does he still do this to her? She had moved on. Really she had…hadn’t she?

Veronica sighs. “There’s this place called Third Rail Coffee off 2nd Ave and 10th St. If you need directions I –”

“I’ll find it. Meet you there in an hour?”

_What are you getting yourself into?_

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

* * *

She spots him sitting at a table near the window as she gets closer to the coffee shop. The fact that he beat her here has her wondering where he’s staying. He’s out of uniform today and she notices again how muscular his form has become. She’s definitely still attracted to him.

_Fantastic._

Veronica pushes through the door to the coffee shop, heading straight to the small table he has sequestered. Logan holds up one of the two cups in front of him to her. She takes it without question, knowing at this point he hasn’t forgotten her usual order.

“You’ve haven’t gone and changed your order on me, have you?” he asks as she sits down.

She shakes her head. “Same old me.”

She takes a slow sip testing the temperature of the beverage and he watches her with that same old Logan Echolls curiosity.

“I was almost worried you weren’t going to show up,” he tells her.

“Oh you know the MTA, unreliable as ever.”

He stares at her blankly.

“The subway was delayed,” she clarifies.

He nods, taking a sip of his own drink.

“You’re really not that surprised that I called you, are you?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “I knew your curiosity would get the better of you. It always does.”

“And what exactly was I curious about?”

“You tell me.”

She wants to wipe that cocky grin of his right off his face.

“Why the Navy, Logan?” she asks, jumping right back into their brief phone conversation. “How did you end up here?”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” he asks, setting his coffee cup back down on the table.

“You know I like to cut right to the chase.”

He smirks, drumming his fingers against the table. But the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, a sense of sadness settling into them. “When you’ve lost everyone in your life who was once important to you, you get to a point where you stop blaming everyone else and take a long hard look at yourself and your own choices.”

She can’t look at him. She knows she’s one of those people. She stopped trying. She left.

“I was starting to see parts of Aaron in myself and that absolutely terrified me. My motives may have been different, looking to protect people I cared about instead of just my image, but my actions weren’t any different when it came down to it.”

“You’re nothing like him,” she interrupts, dragging her gaze up to his from her cup.

He shrugs in response before taking another sip of his drink. “I uh – I almost failed out of Hearst. I was on academic probation for a while. The realization that I was anything like him sent me on one hell of a bender. When Dick started questioning my constant level of drunkenness, I knew I needed help. So, I got sober, got my grades up, and applied to the Naval Academy. Joining the military seemed like the kind of discipline I needed to keep me in check. It hasn’t been easy, but I really think it’s helped me.”

Veronica reaches for his hand out of instinct, her fingers curling over his palm. He squeezes her hand back in response.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten into a fist fight,” he continues. “You can assure Piz he’s safe.”

At the mention of Piz, she drops Logan’s hand and returns it to her coffee cup. She attempts to hide the awkwardness of the gesture by taking a drink.

“I’m glad you’re doing well, Logan. I really am.”

He nods, his hands moving to fidget with his coffee cup. “So, how are things with you?”

“Oh you know, just trying to find a summer internship and failing miserably.”

“You?” he asks, the smirk returning and reaching his eyes this time. “Always at the top of her class Veronica Mars is having trouble getting someone to hire her?”

“Well when you’re not looking for dirt on a cheating significant other or the campus rapist, I guess my track record just isn’t as impressive.”

“You still doing that sort of stuff? The P.I. thing?”

She shakes her head, looking back down at the table. “No, not anymore. I haven’t worked a case since I left Neptune for Stanford. Not since I managed to fuck everything up for so many people in one fell swoop.”

This time Logan reaches for her hand and she lets him. His thumb brushes back and forth over her skin and for a second, she lets her eyes slip closed as her mind takes her back to another place and time.

_She’s sitting across from him in the cafeteria at Hearst. He’s giving her a key to his room at The Grand and telling her that there’s no one else. He only wants her._

Veronica opens her eyes and meets his gaze. “What are we doing, Logan?”

“Having coffee,” he replies, gesturing at their drinks with his free hand. His other hand continues to hold hers, tracing mindless shapes with his thumb.

“I’m with –”

He cuts her off before she can even say Piz’s name. “I’m not asking for anything, Veronica. I just wanted to catch up, that’s all.”

“What you’re doing to my hand says otherwise.”

“You’re the one not pulling away.”

She does after he says that, cursing at herself for immediately missing the feel of his touch.

“Are you happy?” he asks her.

“With Piz?”

“In general. Are you happy?”

“I –” she starts, but then pauses. Is she happy? She finally got out of Neptune, but she moved to the complete other side of the country away from her father and best friend. She’s set to graduate in one year with a law degree from an Ivy League University, but she can’t even get her foot in the door at any of the prominent law firms in the area. She’s in a committed relationship with a guy she really likes…but she doesn’t love him. And she keeps telling herself that she’ll surely fall for him one of these days. But isn’t that what she told herself about him during undergrad too?

Piz is in love with her, but she’s not in love with him. And she’s known that for a while.

“I’m going to take your silence as a no,” Logan says softly.

Veronica sighs. “Just not where I saw my life ending up, you know?”

“We’re 25, Veronica. Quarter life crisis? Sure. But your life hasn’t ended anywhere yet.”

“What about you?” she counters, not wanting to dwell too long on her own personal problems. “Are you happy?”

Logan shrugs, noncommittally. “Things could be worse. But they could also be better.”

_Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask._

“Are you seeing anyone?”

His eyes meet hers again. “I just got out of a relationship actually. She broke it off. That bet you overhead the guys talking about yesterday? The one I supposedly lost? Stemmed from them saying I need to find a good hook up during Fleet Week and me responding that it’s going to be a while before I’m ready for that. They said wanna bet? Then saw me talking with you…”

She can’t help herself. Zero self control.

“Did you love her?”

He laughs a little, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I think I did.”

“You think?”

“Can’t help that I still compare everyone to you. As hard as I try not to I –”

Oh, he does things to her. Still. Countless fights and five years of silence later and he still gets her to feel this way. Like she’s the only person in the room, the only one he really sees. Like she matters when the rest of the world has turned its back on her.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, before tipping back his cup to get the last drop out of it. “I’m not trying to drag you back anywhere. Happy or not, we’ve both moved on from this. Even if there are parts of it we can’t seem to let go.”

“Logan, I –”

“I should go,” he says, looking down at his watch. “I need to go change into uniform. It was really nice seeing you again, Vee. I hope these law firms come to their senses soon and realize how great you are.”

“Logan,” she tries again.

But she can’t get the words to come as he stands to throw away his cup. She can’t get them to come as he walks past her, his hand brushing gently over her shoulder. She can’t get them to come before he walks out the door.

It’s not until she watches him cross the street, that the words finally slip out on a whisper.

“I miss you.”

* * *

She should call Wallace. She _really_ should. She knows he would immediately set her head straight and remind her why missing Logan was a very bad idea. But she vies for another option, because she isn’t quite ready to accept that yet.

“Hey Veronica, what’s up?” Mac answers from the other line.

“I ran into Logan,” she tells her in a rush, as she heads back toward the subway to get home.

“Yikes, how did that go?”

She’s not even sure how to put it into words. It felt like a million different things and that’s why it feels like it’s tearing her apart.

_I wanted to smack him, but I also wanted to kiss him. You know, the usual._

“Hey, you still there?” Mac asks.

Veronica pauses at the top of the subway entrance, earning her several annoyed glares as people descend the steps around her. She pinches the bridge of her nose, wincing as the thought forms in her mind.

“I think I still have feelings for him.”

Admitting it out loud almost makes her feel like she’s going to hurl. With how fast these feelings came back, she’s beginning to think they never left. There’s a long pause of silence on the other line which Veronica uses to decide against the subway. She thinks that walking for a bit may help clear her head. But when Mac’s silence goes on for too long, it’s her turn to ask her friend if she’s still there.

“Aren’t you living with Piz right now?” her voice finally filters back through the line.

“Yes.”

Mac sighs. “Are we freshmen in college again?”

“It’s not like that,” she says, automatically going on the defensive.

“No? Then what’s it like?”

She chews on her bottom lip waiting for the light to change so she can cross the street. If Mac wants her to put everything into words she can’t seem to find, maybe she _should_ have just called Wallace. He at least would just chastise her and not make her talk about her feelings.

“It’s like…” she trails off still not sure how to frame it in a way that makes sense outside of her head. It’s like waking up from a nap when you didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep. It’s like being delivered someone else’s food but liking their order better than your own. It’s like coming to the conclusion that you picked the wrong ex-boyfriend to move in with.

“Do you really want to give up what you have with Piz?” Mac asks, when her silence drags on for too long again.

“Give up what? The help with the rent and the okay sex?”

“Have you been feeling this way for a while? Or did running into Logan just change things? Maybe it’s not even Logan you want. You’re just unhappy in your current relationship and wanting something you know you can’t have is a more attractive option.”

Veronica wonders if she’s right. Does she only miss Logan because she wants an out from Piz? But she doesn’t think that’s it. She hadn’t been unhappy with Piz until she remembered just how well Logan knew her.

She passes a shop with a giant window display of Logan’s cologne. The serendipity of this city sometimes…

“No, I – I think that it’s him, that it’s Logan, that I want.”

“Even after how many times he’s hurt you?”

“I’ve hurt him too.”

It’s no secret the ways in which they’ve hurt each other over the years. That’s why she thought this thing between them was long over. But what’s that quote about time healing all wounds or something like that? Sounds like one of his old inspirational voicemail quotes. 

“All I’m saying is that I’ve seen firsthand what he does to you,” Mac tells her. “Piz has never hurt you like that.”

_Because I’ve never let him in close enough to be able to._

“I really thought talking about this was going to help,” Veronica says as she approaches her next chance to get on the subway. “But now I just feel even more confused than I did an hour ago.”

“I guess all I can say is trust your gut. It was usually right back when you took on cases.”

Right now, the only intel she’s getting from her gut is that this whole situation is making her nauseous. Truly not how she intended her summer to start at all.


	3. Chapter 3

_We had a beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

Piz is already home by the time she makes it there. He’s heating up leftovers, dancing around to some song she’s never heard of before. She loses track of all of his favorite artists. He has too many to count.

“Hey, there you are,” he smiles when he notices her walk in. “Did you have an interview today?”

She looks down at her casual attire and then back up at him with an eyebrow raised in question. “No, just went to get coffee. I still haven’t heard anything.”

“They’re probably still sorting through applicant pools,” he tells her, as the microwave starts beeping that his food is ready.

She watches him move around their kitchen, still trying to untangle the knots that have settled in her stomach.

“Do you know what my coffee order is?” she asks, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Your what?”

“My coffee order. If I were to ask you to go get me coffee, would you be able to without me telling you what I wanted?”

He pauses for a moment with his fork full of food and lifted to his mouth. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just…yes or no, could you do it?”

He finishes the bite of food on his fork. “I could find something you like, sure.”

“That’s not…” she trails off, finishing the thought to herself. That’s not what she asked. She’s not particularly picky when it comes to coffee, but she does have a favorite way that she likes it. And for some reason, it’s something that Logan can remember, and Piz can’t. “Never mind.”

He spears another bite of food with his fork but looks over at her. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Someone will hire you, Veronica, just give it time. You’re in the top of your class at Columbia Law School that’s not just going to go unnoticed.”

She scrubs a hand through her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. He can’t even tell what’s really bothering her, or if he can, he refuses to acknowledge it.

“Forget about the job, okay?” she asks “You’re more worried about it than I am.”

“Look, I just want you to get what you want. I’m only trying to be supportive.”

What she wants? Her ex-boyfriend back? Right no, of course not, he’s still talking about an internship.

“And I appreciate that. But you don’t need to bring it up every time we have a conversation. When I hear something, I’ll tell you.”

He nods around another bite of food, reaching for the stack of mail on the counter and thumbing through it. She continues to watch him, wondering when the best time is to tell someone that you’re not in love with them. When she broke up with Logan, she _was_ in love with him and ending that had seemed much easier than this did now. Not that the aftermath of that break up hadn’t been hard on her. Crying in the shower almost every day seemed to be a part of her normal routine during that period.

“Piz, are you happy?” she asks, biting the bullet and diving right in.

“At this current moment or in general?”

“In general.”

He finishes the last few bites of his meal like he needs the time to really think it over. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

“Are you? Honestly?”

“Veronica,” Piz starts, moving around to the other side of the counter to stand next to her. “Where is this coming from?”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” she tells him. “Or maybe it does.”

He reaches for her hand. “I’m happy. Happy here with you and with –”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off. “Please.”

He lets go of her hand. “You’re not happy, are you?”

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“Is this about _him_?”

She shakes her head again because it really isn’t. She doesn’t know if Logan will take her back. She doesn’t even know if that’s a bridge she officially wants to cross again. But she does know she doesn’t feel the same way about Piz that he does about her and she can’t keep letting him think that she does.

“What do you need?” he asks her. “What would make you happy?”

What is it with people asking her questions that she can’t formulate articulate responses for today?

“It’s not that simple, Piz. I wish that it was, but…” she trails off.

“I should have known,” he sighs, moving back around the counter to clean up his dishes. “But I didn’t want to see it. Not in undergrad and certainly not now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t just look at a person the way you look at Logan and expect that to go away.”

She stares at him speechless. She wasn’t aware that she had a special look just for him, especially not one so noticeable other people were able to pick up on it.

“What – how do I look at him?”

Piz sighs again, standing up straight after closing the dish washer. “The same way he looks at you.”

That confuses her even more. How does he look at her? She tries to focus on his facial expressions from earlier but gets stuck thinking about that sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. That look on his face right before he said he’d lost the most important people in his life. He’d lost _her_.

And then – oh.

_Oh._

He looks at her like she’s the only person in the room.

“This isn’t –” she tries to start, but Piz cuts her off.

“It _is_ about him. And you can try and tell yourself that it’s not. But ever since you mentioned that you ran into him the other day, you’ve had that look on your face. And that’s just not the way you look at me.”

Fuck, this hurts. She feels terrible. Piz has always been such a great friend to her, but that’s part of her problem: she still sees him as a great friend and not someone she’s in love with.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, wrapping her arms around her torso. “You deserve better. So much better than what I’m capable of giving you. You deserve someone who gives you that look.”

He nods slowly, bracing his hands against the countertop. “Promise me something?”

“If it’s about the apartment, I can be the one to move out since I –”

“No, no, nothing like that. Just, promise me you’ll think about what you’re getting yourself into with him this time.”

“Piz –”

“I’ve watched you fall apart over him more than once. And I didn’t know you guys in high school. You deserve better too, Veronica. And if he can’t give you that? Then those looks be damned.”

If all of her friends think she was a mess after their breakups, she can only imagine what Dick has to say about when she was the one to break up with Logan…

_Hell, he deserves better than me too._

* * *

Piz offers to move out, but this is Manhattan and there’s no way she’s able to afford this place on her own. So, until they can both find cheaper studio apartments or new roommates, they’re stuck spending alternating evenings on the couch (at her insistence). They both avoid being at home at the same time for longer than is absolutely necessary, making polite small talk and trying to avoid any and all conversation topics that may lead to a fight.

She finds herself frequenting Third Rail Coffee more than usual, hoping Logan may turn back up hoping to see her there. Tomorrow’s the last official day of Fleet Week and she still hasn’t heard from him again. Of course, he hasn’t heard from her either.

_It’s a two-way street, Veronica._

She slides her phone closer to her, checking again for any missed messages or calls. Nothing. She doesn’t want to be the one to cave twice within the span of the same week and make the first move. But she knows that if she doesn’t, he’ll leave tomorrow and continue to move on with his life. And she’ll still be stuck here wondering what if…

Veronica thumbs through her contacts again. Logan’s number is still listed under DO NOT ANSWER. She should change that. Change it right now even. But as she clicks on the contact to edit it, her phone starts ringing. A call from DO NOT ANSWER. Did she call him by accident or he is actually calling her?

“Hello?” she answers, tentatively.

“Hey, glad I caught you.”

She breathes a sigh of relief at just the sound of his voice.

“Actually, I’m glad you did too,” she responds, smiling.

“Oh really?”

She can hear the smirk in his voice and picture the way his eyebrows rose at her comment.

“Yes, really. But you called me, so you first.”

His laugh echoes through the phone line. “Want to help me play hooky today?”

“Oh always. What are we hiding from?”

There’s a brief pause and she wonders for a moment if the call was dropped. But then his voice filters back through the line, quieter this time. “Family day.”

_Oh_.

“Say no more,” she tells him. “I’m still shamelessly unemployed. Where can I meet you?”

“Uhhh – I’m not sure. I thought I’d take a walk through Central Park this morning, but I underestimated the size of this park and I’m kind of lost.”

Veronica laughs. “Such a tourist.”

“Look at you, living out here for two years and already such a city snob.”

“It’s true, I turned into a real New Yorker, real quick.”

“Okay show off, get me out of this park.”

“What, you think we have the gift of shared sight or something? I don’t know where you are.”

He grumbles something inaudible before speaking up to respond. “I see a sign for the Central Park Carousel.”

“Okay, but are you actually by the carousel or do you just see signs leading you there?”

“I don’t see any carousel.”

She laughs again. “All right, what else do you see? If you can manage to get to 66th and Broadway, there’s a subway station I can get off at and meet you. We can go grab lunch at The Smith. I think you’ll like it.”

“Is Broadway East or West?”

“West.”

“I’ll find it.”

“Are you sure?”

“If I’m not at the subway station by the time you get here, feel free to send in search and rescue.”

“What kind of military man are you?” she teases.

“The west coast kind.”

She laughs again, shaking her head. “Good luck, solider. Er sailor?”

“Uh, I’m a pilot.”

“No shit? They let you fly planes?”

“Yep. Sort of my job.”

“The more you know.”

“Veronica? Hang up and come find me.”

“Fine. If I must. See you soon.”

She hangs up, faintly aware that she can’t stop grinning as she collects her things and packs up her laptop. Their banter is back. She finally fell back into the swing of it. Definitely the start to all of this she had been hoping for.

* * *

When she climbs the steps up out of the subway, her eyes find Logan immediately. He’s leaning against a street light with his head down looking at his phone.

“Glad to see you made it out alive,” she calls to him as she walks closer.

He looks up at the sound of her voice and she notices it the moment his eyes land on her. There’s that look. _The_ look. God, does she really look at him like that too?

“Oh you know, basic training kicked in and I just followed the sun,” he grins, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“The man can pilot planes over war zones, but gets lost in Central Park. Incredible.”

“It’s a talent,” he shrugs.

Veronica rolls her eyes. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

She nudges him to turn around. “This way, follow me.”

He trails behind her for a few moments before changing his stride to match hers and walk side by side. She fights the urge to reach for his hand, tucking her hands into her pockets to stop even an accidental brush from happening. She won’t be held responsible for taking this to a level they’re not ready for.

Logan walks beside her in a content silence, his gaze taking in the city. Every so often she catches him sneaking a glance her way. They’re only walking a few blocks to the restaurant, so it intrigues her that he can’t seem to keep his eyes to himself. And then she thinks back to when she first ran into him earlier in the week. He’d called her Bobcat as they parted ways and with the tumult of other emotions swirling around after that encounter, she hadn’t given too much thought to his use of the old nickname until now. That is, not much thought until after Piz had caught her shredding lettuce into tiny little pieces while thinking about it.

“Why did you call me Bobcat earlier this week?” she asks, needing an explanation as to why his name for her in the bedroom made it out onto the public streets of New York.

He chuckles, shaking his head and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Has that been bothering you this whole time? All week?”

“Well, no –”

She thinks about it again and how casually he said it, letting it roll off his tongue as if she hadn’t been straddling him completely naked the last time he’d called her that. The mental image sends a shiver down her spine and she digs her nails into her thighs inside her pockets, urging herself not to react.

“You lie, Ms. Mars,” he teases her, coming to a stop on the sidewalk. “This it?” he asks, pointing up at the building with a sign matching the name of the restaurant she had mentioned on the phone.

Veronica nods, brushing past him inside to put her name down with the hostess. The woman tells her the wait will be about ten minutes for a table, so she and Logan step off to the side out of the way.

“Again I ask, why Bobcat? Why now?” she asks him in a hushed tone.

He laughs, shaking his head again. “I don’t even know. Just wanted to see how you’d react, I guess. See if I could still get into your head.”

“You never left,” she mutters, wincing when she realizes she said that aloud.

She can feel his gaze on her again, but she purposely stares straight ahead at the hostess stand instead of looking at him.

“Which part of me never left?” he asks, rocking back on his heels. “The good, the bad, or the ugly?”

One of these days she needs to figure out how to verbalize everything that’s going on in her head.

“Logan, I –”

“Veronica? Table for two?” the hostess calls, holding two menus and ready to guide them to their table.

They follow her to a table situated near the bar, the walls lined with more brands of varying alcohols than she realized existed. It’s almost artsy, the way they have it set up. They look more like decoration than functional bottles to pour for patrons.

“You were saying?” Logan prompts as the hostess leaves their table.

She glances up at him and then down at the menu in front of her. “Their skillet mac n’ cheese is amazing here.”

“Veronica.”

She knows she can’t avoid it; shouldn’t if she wants to re-explore these feelings for him that have resurfaced. But still she’s hesitant, thinking about his abrupt departure from the coffee shop after he admitted to still comparing his new relationships to their old one.

“I don’t know. Bits and pieces,” she shrugs. “I still can’t mix red peppers directly into a salad because all I can hear is you complaining about how they taint the taste of everything they touch. I do a double take every time I see a yellow car regardless of the make or model, although I have grown used to the taxis. I can’t even go to the law library without thinking about that time we hooked up in the Hearst library after I got off shift.”

Their waitress chooses that moment to come up and take their drink orders, no doubt hearing the tail end about hooking up in the library from the expression on her face. They realize they haven’t even looked at the menus yet, and Logan waits until they’ve given their food orders to respond back to Veronica.

“I still don’t like red peppers. I no longer drive a yellow car. And I too still think about what happened in that library,” he says waggling his eyebrows. 

She rolls her eyes, aimlessly stirring her straw around in her water glass. “I still can’t believe you talked me into doing that.”

“I didn’t have to talk you into doing anything. You’re the one who practically dragged me up there.”

She scoffs. “I did not.”

“No, no you did. This was around the time we were trying to make our relationship about more than just sex, but we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other for long enough to do anything else.”

She bites her lower lip, thinking back to that period of their relationship. The nights spent at The Grand trying to memorize every inch and every response of one another. Trying so hard to study together until inevitably someone’s hand ended down the other person’s pants. Trying to restrict study sessions to public places to prevent that from happening until they resorted to teasing each other with nothing but stolen glances and suggestive gestures around straws and pencils that always ended up with them retreating back to The Grand before any actual school work was completed.

“We had a lot of fun when we weren’t trying to bite each other’s head off,” she concedes, watching her straw as she continues to stir it.

“Relationships are hard. And we were pretty much handed an adult relationship at 17 with everything we’d been through already and were told to run with it.”

“You think we’d be any better at it now?”

The question leaves her lips before she can think about the implications behind it. She jerks her head up from her water glass to look at him, her wide eyes matching the expression on his face.

“I just – I mean – we’re older, we’ve seen other people…”

She doesn’t feel like she’s helping, only making it worse.

“I wasn’t suggesting,” she starts, still trying to back track.

“Relax, Veronica,” Logan tells her. “I know what you meant.”

“Do you? Because I’m not even sure if I knew what I meant.”

He doesn’t answer her right away, and she finds herself wondering if she already managed to say the wrong thing.

“You had mentioned you didn’t think it was a good idea for us to hang out together while I was in town because you didn’t want to lie to Piz. So, what does he think about all of this?”

She’d wanted to wait until later in the day to bring this up, but here he is already trying to test his boundaries.

“I uh – that’s over.”

He scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion. “I feel like there’s a joke in there about me coming into town for one week and causing mass chaos, but it feels a little insensitive.”

She shakes her head, going back to fidgeting with her straw. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“I hope I didn’t cause –”

“You did. But probably not in the way that you’re thinking. It’s okay, though. It was time.”

The waitress brings them their food, but neither one of them makes a move to start eating. She’s still staring at her straw and he’s still staring at her. She knows he’s waiting for more of an explanation, but how does she go about telling him what really happened?

_Piz and I broke up because of the way you and I look at each other._

“I wasn’t in love with him,” she finally says, reaching for her napkin to spread across her lap. “And he deserves someone who will love him as fiercely as he did me. I couldn’t give him that.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

She can still feel his eyes on her, but she’s almost afraid to meet his gaze. He’s always been able to read her better than anyone else, almost as easily as her dad can. And she knows there’s too much going on inside her head right now to let him see.

“What you said the other day,” she offers instead. “About not being able to help but compare other relationships to us? No matter how awful things ended between us, that doesn’t take away the love that was there. And seeing you again…I don’t love him like that. And I’ve been sitting around waiting to feel something, but I just…I didn’t want to do that to him anymore.”

She can’t take the feeling of his eyes on her anymore, so she looks up to meet his gaze. She thinks he’s moving to reach for his fork, but instead he surprises her and reaches for her hand. He repeats his action from the coffee shop a few days ago, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over her skin.

“How did we screw ourselves over this badly?” he asks her.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re still so hung up on our string of failed attempts at a relationship that we can’t even manage to let anyone else in.”

“Maybe because the last time we let someone get close to us,” she glances down at their joined hands and then back up at him. “It ended in complete disaster.”

“Not all of it was a disaster.”

God, she misses him. He’s sitting right in front of her, holding her hand, and she still feels this visceral ache for him. She wants nothing more than to fit herself against his chest, tucked under his chin, her arms wrapped around his waist. He would always say she was the perfect fit. Just the right height where he felt like he could wrap her up and protect her, even though she was always refusing the protection.

“But do the good moments outweigh the bad ones?” she asks, softly.

“In my head they do.”

She feels her throat run dry again. She wants to exist solely in their happy moments, in a world where he spins her around and kisses her and makes her feel like everything is going to be okay. But this is reality and she knows they didn’t work out for a reason. And no matter how many times they tried, it always ended with both of them in pain.

“Logan,” she squeezes his hand, finding herself asking the same question from the coffee shop when he was last holding her hand like this. “What are we doing?”

“Eating.”

“Neither of us have touched our food.”

She can hear the tears forming as her voice hitches. She closes her eyes trying to keep them from blurring her vision.

_Do not start crying in front of him at this restaurant. The waitress was already silently judgmental enough about the library hookup situation._

He tugs gently on her hand and gets her to open her eyes. “Then let’s eat.”

She swipes at the corner of her eye, watching him reach for his fork. “We’re not done talking about this. You can’t just…keep saying these things to me and then changing the subject.”

“I know,” he says, spearing a bite of food with his fork. “But not here.”

How is she supposed to get through a meal like this? There are too many things being left unsaid. Too many questions she didn’t even have a week ago when she hadn’t thought about him in years.

_You’re lying to yourself if you believe that. You think about him all the damn time whether you’re willing to admit it or not._

“Where do you want me to take us after this?” she asks, starting to poke around at her own meal.

“Where’s your favorite place in the city? I want to see it.”

She thinks about the two years she’s spent here. Tries to think about where that would be. Where does she go when she’s missing California? Where does she spend her time away from home and school and the odd coffee shop?

“I’ve got an idea,” she tells him, when her mind finally settles on a place.

And if this place doesn’t get him talking to her, _really_ talking to her, nothing will.


	4. Chapter 4

_In dreams I meet you in warm conversation_

_We both wake in lonely beds in different cities_

They’re both quiet on the cab ride to Chelsea. She stares out the window with her head propped up on her hand. He stares out the other window with one hand resting on her knee. She lets him leave it there, knows him well enough to know he’s absentmindedly falling back into old habits. The more time they spend together, the more distance they erase from their years apart.

When the cab driver pulls up to the address she gave him, she looks over at Logan to try and gauge his reaction. She watches him scan over the buildings, trying to decide where they’re headed. He’s clearly trying to figure out how well he can still read her, how well he still knows her. Even if he can pick out the building, she doubts he’ll be able to figure out why.

“All right, I’ll cave. Where did you bring me?” he asks, scooting out of the cab behind her.

She points to the building directly in front of him, watching him read the sign on the exterior.

“Is it an art gallery?” he asks.

“Close. A photography one.”

He cocks his head at her. “This is your favorite place in the city?”

She smirks at him, pushing him toward the entrance. “You’ll see.”

Veronica keeps her eyes trained on him as they step inside, wondering how long it will take him to get it. He looks at the first photograph on the wall, a simple shot of a pier on a beach at sunset. He studies it for a while, like he’s trying to place it, but he doesn’t say anything and instead steps over to the next photograph. An action shot of a game of beach volleyball, a woman caught in the air mid-spike, the ball just connecting with her hand. On to the next one, a beach at dusk, a group of teens gathered around a bonfire celebrating one thing or another.

“Are these all California?” he asks.

She nods, continuing to watch him take in the exhibit.

“So, you come here when you get homesick or something?” he jokes, stepping over to the next photograph.

And that’s when it finally clicks for him. The “Welcome to Neptune” sign staring back at him in the picture. He moves back over to the pier he nearly recognized in the first one.

“These are all Neptune,” he says, walking past the first four photographs again. “Did you take these?”

She smiles, spreading her arms out wide and stretching her fingers. “The whole exhibit is mine.”

“What?” he gapes at her and then turns back around to the fifth photograph, a silhouette of an elderly couple sitting on a bench staring out at the beach. “Are you paying to rent this space?”

She shakes her head. “The owner holds contests every season to highlight a different local artist. The place is mine for the summer.”

He turns away from the elderly couple on the bench to look at her as though he’s waiting for more of an explanation. She shrugs, shoving her hands into her pockets.

“I’ve always loved photography, but you know that. Got into it for P.I. surveillance, kept it up with the school paper, continued on with it as a hobby when I needed a break from school and everything else. I heard about this gallery and figured it was worth a shot. The worse that could happen was that I wouldn’t get selected. But I’ve already sold a couple of prints. Guess it’s a good fall back if I can’t get any of these law firms to hire me.”

And there’s that look again, like he’s in awe of her, like she’s the only one he sees.

“That’s amazing, Vee. This is incredible.”

He continues walking around her exhibit and she waits for him to spot the photo that she anticipates will bring the most questions. The one she hopes will get them back on track to this conversation they keep starting and never finishing. When she hears his intake of breath, she knows he’s spotted it. The photograph of him surfing, perfectly captured within the spiral of the wave.

“When did you take this?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Summer after we graduated high school. We had plans, but you got a text from Dick that the waves were absolutely perfect right now. And you tried to play it off like you didn’t care, but I saw right through your indifference.”

“I remember that day,” he smiles. “You got so sunburnt.”

“Yeah,” she groans. “You think being a native Californian, I would have learned by the age of 18 how much the sun hates my pasty skin.”

He laughs, turning away from the photo. When he looks at her, she feels her breath hitch in her throat. She can read every emotion on his face and she finds herself wanting to curl into his arms again.

“What made you include this one of me?”

“I’m proud of it,” she says simply, hoping he’ll prod for more.

“You should be. And I don’t just say that because I’m your model.”

She smiles, feeling the slightest tinge of a blush creep up her neck. He finishes the loop of the room and she keeps watching him from the center of it. He turns back to her when he’s done, shaking his head as he walks closer to her.

“Is there anything Veronica Mars can’t do?” he asks.

“I can’t draw for shit,” she shrugs.

Logan laughs again. “That’s true. I remember trying to play Pictionary with you once. Who draws a police woman without hair?”

“I ran out of time,” she whines. “It wasn’t my fault.”

He keeps grinning at her so she bumps her shoulder into his side, trying to get him to stop making fun of her.

“I’m honored though,” he tells her. “To be included in this. I’ve always said you have a great eye for photography. It’s about time someone else started acknowledging it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve gotta ask though, what did Piz say about you using a picture of me in this exhibit?”

She rocks back on her heels, clasping her hands behind her back. “He doesn’t know.”

Logan raises an eyebrow at her. “Did you stand in front of my picture the whole time?”

She laughs a little, shaking her head. “He hasn’t been here. I mean he knows it exists, but he just hasn’t had the time. And now I doubt he has any interest in coming.”

He hums, turning back around to take another lap around the room. “For the record, I would’ve been here the day it opened.”

He’s doing it again, saying things that make her feel like no time has passed between them. Making her feel like she could just reach up and kiss him and he wouldn’t even question it.

“Are there more pictures from this day?” he asks, pointing at his surfing photo.

“Oh yeah there’s a lot more. You think I spent all day at the beach with you getting sunburnt and only took one picture?”

“Do you still have them?”

Veronica nods. “Yeah, I still have the files on my computer. I can show you sometime if you like.”

He nods in agreement, looking back and forth between her and the photo. “Hey, didn’t Dick and I steal your camera on this day? Do you still have those photos too? I don’t even remember what we took.”

She remembers. She still has two of them tucked away in frames in the back of her closet. The rest of them are scattered amongst her own pictures from that day in the same file folder. The two she’s thinking about, hell even a third one if she remembers it correctly, would certainly get him to say the things he isn’t saying. Now, how to get him out of here and in and out of her apartment before Piz decides he can’t put off coming home for the night any longer? The two of them really need to find different living arrangements.

“I have those too,” she answers him. “All you have to do is come home with me.”

She leaves the innuendo hanging in the air, waiting to see if he’ll take the bait. Making everything she said dirty used to be an old skill of his. She almost misses it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to seduce me.” He glances around the gallery one more time before turning back to her with a sigh. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

“That depends. What are your intentions?”

He returns her gesture from earlier by bumping her with his shoulder. “Action wise I can keep it PG. Language though, that might get us. Might have to rate us R.”

She gives him a small smile now almost afraid of what might be coming. R rated language because he expects them to fight? Or R rated because he intends to go heavy on the innuendo? She wants him to talk to her, needs him to dive into the unsaid. But what if doing that upends this whole thing before it even starts again? Maybe that’s better. To get out before she gets too comfortable around him again. To let it lessen the heartbreak of realizing she’s still hung up on a guy who’s given up on her.

“We can walk the Highline,” she suggests, wanting to stall going back to her apartment and photos of ghosts of summers past. “There will most likely be some foot traffic, but there are plenty of places to stop and sit.”

Logan gestures toward the exit of the gallery. “Lead the way.”

* * *

The Highline is only a few blocks away from the gallery, so they agree to walk. They fall into another pattern of silence and she’s beginning to wonder if he thinks the silence is as awkward as she does or if he actually finds it comfortable. They used to be able to exist in comfortable silence together, but today doesn’t feel like the day for it.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you keep saying things like how you compare your new relationships to me or how in your memory of us the good outweighs the bad?” Veronica asks, needing so badly to hear something besides the noises of New York traffic.

“That depends. Are you going to tell me why you were close to tears back in the restaurant?”

Suddenly, maybe she does prefer the silence.

“I’m going to ask you one more time what are we doing,” she starts. “And I swear to god, Logan if you say climbing stairs –”

“I won’t.”

She shoots him a look.

“And not just because we’ve stopped climbing them,” he adds once they make it up to the Highline.

“Look, I – we can’t keep pretending that all of this is normal. We haven’t spoken to each other in five years. I didn’t even know that you were in the Navy. We’re not in Neptune anymore, Logan. And we’re not teenagers. We can’t keep tiptoeing around whatever this is.”

He tilts his head toward a bench overlooking the Hudson River and motions for her to follow him. He straddles the bench and she copies him, taking the hint that he wants to face her for this conversation instead of sitting side by side.

“If you want to know what we’re doing, you’re going to have to let me get really sappy and sentimental on you here for a minute and I’m not sure you can handle it.”

“You’re just making my confusion worse at this point.”

He laughs once, dropping his gaze first to the bench and then out at the river. “Family Day at Fleet Week remember?” 

“Yeah, that’s why you wanted to –”

Oh. Oh no. He doesn’t… she’s not…

“Logan –”

“It’s no secret my actual family has always been awful, not to mention most of them are dead now, but,” he waves his hand around as he talks. “You’ve always felt like home to me, Veronica. You were there for me at times when no one else was, even when I was awful to you. Even today, after five years apart, you heard me mention I was trying to avoid something family related, and you came running. You show up for me and you’re basically the only person who ever has.”

She barely even registers that she’s started crying until she feels a tear drop off her chin. She hears what he’s saying, taking it all in. She’s his _family_. Even after everything, after the years of silence, he wants to turn to her. How had she never seen that before? He had been in love with her once upon a time, and she knew with everything he had going on in his life that wasn’t something that came easily to him. Just like it wasn’t something that came easily to her…

“I would have shown up sooner, but you never asked,” she says, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I wasn’t sure that you’d come.”

She buries her face in her hands as his hand comes to rest on her knee again. She’s going to lose all self-control if he keeps it up like this.

“Are we – what are we –” she asks into her hands.

“I don’t know,” he replies, his thumb stroking back and forth over her knee. “We’re a mess when we’re together, we’re a mess when we’re apart, I don’t know.”

Veronica lifts her head back up to look at him. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t be.” Logan flattens his palm out against her leg. “You keep asking me what we’re doing. What do you want us to be doing?”

She draws her lower lip in between her teeth, resting one of her hands on top of his. “I still have feelings for you. If I’m being honest with myself they never really left. But just the smell of your cologne the other day sent me spiraling, about both the good and the bad. We have this history, Logan, and a part of me thinks we can never overcome that.”

“And the other part of you?”

She laces her fingers through his at her knee. “I want to be with you. So badly it hurts. But you don’t live here and I’m not sure, with our trust issues of years past, if you and I could handle long distance. And I don’t know how long ago your relationship with this girl you might have loved ended, but I just got out of one like three days ago. We’re not teenagers anymore, and maybe that means we’ll be better at all of this, but…I don’t think I can handle letting you all the way in again only for it to go back up in flames.”

“We’re imperfect,” he tells her. “And I wish I could sit here and tell you that we’ve grown up and matured enough not to make the same mistakes as last time, but we’re still the same stubborn ass people we’ve always been. And we’re human. We’re going to piss each other off at some point. We just have to be more willing to forgive each other. The secrets, from both of us, have to stop.”

“You say that like it’s easy. Like we can just jump right back into this thing ignoring everything that happened and try again.”

“Is it that hard to try and forgive the past? If it’s been five years and we still can’t stop thinking about each other isn’t that some sort of sign? We both fucked up, Veronica. I know it and you know it. But I still haven’t figured out how to get over you completely, and from the sound of it, you haven’t either. I didn’t seek you out when I got to New York, because I just assumed you wouldn’t want to see me. But we found each other anyway. That has to mean something.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to force out the dialogue of one of their last fights over Madison that always manages to worm its way into her head when she tries to think about how happy they once were.

_You know how I feel about her. There is no way that at some point while it was happening that you weren't thinking about how much I'd hate you being with her._

_It wasn't like that._

_No? Do you want another variation because I've got a million sickening scenarios running in a loop right now?_

_I wasn't trying to hurt you._

_Really? Imagine if you tried._

“Veronica?”

His voice pulls her back to the present. The ways in which they hurt each other in the past still hang over them. They can pretend it was all sunshine and happiness, but they both know it wasn’t. They were good together, until they weren’t. And she needs him to understand that. They can look at each other like they’re the only people in the room all they want, they can miss the feeling of being in each other’s arms, in each other’s beds, but until they can both understand what went wrong the last time, there is no moving forward. And she really, _really_ wants to move forward.

“She stood there and acted like she knew you better than I did.”

“Who did what?” he asks, confused.

“Madison.”

“Oh no, we’re not –” he starts, shaking his head.

“Hear me out. You want the secrets to stop? You want us to work on our trust issues and communication? Then let me talk about this. If we seriously think we can be in a relationship again without screwing it up, let alone a long distance one, we both need to understand what went wrong the last couple of times. And you said it yourself five years ago, we’re incapable of being ‘just friends.’”

Logan scrubs a hand over his face. “What did she tell you?”

She takes a deep breath. “She implied that she knew what you liked during sex more than I did.”

He grunts, shaking his head. “You know that’s not true. I slept with her one time while very intoxicated. You and I had a relationship, Vee. You knew me better than anyone. Probably still do.”

She keeps her gaze cast down at the bench. “All the women on this planet, and your drunk ass decides to go after the one that has done nothing but make me feel like I’m this small my entire life.” She holds up her thumb and index finger so they’re less than half an inch apart. “And you still want to say that you weren’t doing it to try and hurt me?”

His hand comes back to her knee. “I swear I wasn’t. It’s something that just happened. And if I could take anything back in life it would be that night. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to get hurt. That’s why I fought you so hard with the Hearst rapist case. I know you can take care of yourself. But I also know that you don’t know when to ask for help. You won’t ever acknowledge when you’re in something over your head.”

“That’s not me anymore,” she says softly. “I haven’t touched a case in years. Not even a lost dog.”

“It’s not just about the cases. You do it with your feelings too. Because once your walls go up, Veronica, they don’t come back down.”

And that stings, lighting an old fire within her. “Fuck you.”

“You’re trying to tell me that they don’t? That you don’t let anyone get close to you? That as soon as someone tries, you don’t find a way to fight like hell against them?”

“Were you present for any part of our relationship? I let you in, Logan. I –”

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m calling you out on your bullshit. You not letting me in was part of our downfall.”

She wipes at her eyes again, turning her head to look out at the Hudson. “So, what do you want, Logan? If I’m so emotionally closed off, but you still see me as your family what do you want?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I just feel like you’re a drug I can’t quit.”

“What are you saying? Are you comparing me to a drug addiction now? You think we’re that bad for each other?”

“No, look I –”

She shakes her head and pushes herself up from the bench, moving to lean against the railing behind it overlooking the river. “I knew this was a bad idea. Knew it the moment I smelled your cologne. I should have just trusted my gut instinct to run before you saw me.”

He swivels around on the bench so he’s staring at her back. “Look, Veronica, I didn’t mean –”

“You want the truth, Logan? About all of it? Well here it is. With the exception of my dad and Wallace, the people I love always leave me. My mom, Lilly, Duncan, you. I had to put walls up to protect myself. I was sick and tired of letting people in who weren’t going to stick around and stay. And when I let my guard down for you again, tried to let you back in, it’s like our connection was already lost. Because you knew the Madison thing was going to destroy me, destroy us. And it did. It was the catalyst that tore down everything. Am I also to blame? Yes. You were worried about me and my safety and I wouldn’t listen. Arguably the same reason I broke up with you right before senior year started.”

She turns around to look at him, tears glistening in her eyes that she wishes so badly she could will to go away. “But I was in love with you. Maybe I still am even. And I can’t just sit back and pretend that you didn’t hurt me. Or that I didn’t hurt you. Or that I didn’t spend a month crying every time I got in the shower because it felt like the only place where no one would hear me. I would kill to live in one of those perfect romantic comedies where two ex-lovers reconnect on the streets of New York and are happy and married by the end of the film. But that’s not us. It’s never been us. And I just don’t get how you can manage to make me feel like I’m the only person in the room, the only thing that matters, and like I’m something dangerous that’s hurting you at the same time.”

That gets to him. She sees it in his eyes: the pain, the regret, the anger, the guilt. Everything she’s feeling. Everything she wants to go away. And that’s when he pushes himself up off the bench and moves toward her, pulling her against his chest and into his arms. Her first instinct is to push him off, but fuck if she hasn’t wanted him to hold her like this all week. She returns his embrace, letting that last crack in her armor split open. She lets herself cry, full on sobbing into his shirt. And he holds her there, one hand fisted into her shirt, the other fisted into her hair. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t let her go either.

She doesn’t know how much time passes with him holding her like that. Five minutes? Twenty? She can’t bring herself to pull away. Maybe he sees home when he looks at her, but she feels it in the comfort of his embrace. He’s always been there when she gets herself in over her head, whether she asked him to be or not. When he thought she was in trouble at The Camelot. When she went asking questions at the River Styx. That night with Cassidy on the roof. When she was drugged and nearly assaulted in the parking garage at Hearst.

Can the good outweigh the bad between them? Are they capable of leaving all of their wounds and scars in the past and moving forward toward a new beginning? She doesn’t want to dwell on the pain they’ve inflicted on each other any longer. All she wants is him, holding her like this and making her feel like she’s home.

“I’m sorry,” Logan says softly, being the one to break silence. “Fuck, Veronica, I’m so sorry.”

“Are we really that bad for each other?” she nearly whispers against his chest.

“Maybe” he answers softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Maybe we are, but I believe we’re capable of being better than that. I _want_ us to be better than that. And I’m willing to try if you are.”

Is ‘maybe’ enough to rebuild a relationship on? Is it enough to give them both want they want and need? Is _she_ enough for him? It’s something she’s always wondered, if she was enough to hold and keep his attention. And she knows he gets frustrated with her for it.

_You know there’s no one else. I only want you. You ought to know that by now._

“Where do you call home these days?”

She needs to know. How long distance is long distance? 100 miles? 1,000? 10,000?

“Home? Still Neptune. But I’m stationed in D.C. right now.”

“D.C.? How far is that from here?”

Logan shrugs without letting her out of his arms. “Five hour drive maybe? Four and a half if there’s no traffic.”

She looks up at him. “Are we actually going to try this? With everything we just said to each other? There’s still so much anger between us, Logan. How are we supposed to get past that?”

“Let’s start small,” he suggests. “I think we still need to earn each other’s trust back as friends first.”

Veronica nods, curling back against his chest. She still can’t bring herself to let go. And the fact that he doesn’t pressure her to tells her that he needs this just as much as she does.

“So is the Highline just an elevated view of that body of water over there or is there more to it?” he asks, rubbing his hand in small circles against her back.

She laughs. “It used to be part of a railway. It’s a public park now. There are some food vendors and local artists down there further.”

He hums. “I think I’d rather see more of your work. Want to show me the rest of those photos from that day at the beach?”

She thinks about the photos tucked away in her closet, the rest of them hiding in a long forgotten folder in her files.

“Is revisiting our past really going to help with our future?” she asks.

“If we focus on the good memories, it will. Because you know, a long time ago, we used to be friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of hate myself for ending with that theme song pun, but I laughed too hard when I first thought of it and couldn't bring myself to delete it so you're welcome


	5. Chapter 5

_And time is taking its sweet time erasing you_

_And you’ve got your demons and darlin’ they all look like me_

She watches him take in her apartment, the way his eyes roam over the décor like he’s trying to imagine her life here, her life here with Piz at that. He sees the blanket and pillow on the couch, but doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s making his own assumptions about the whole situation, or maybe he’s simply too afraid to ask.

Veronica tilts her head toward the bedroom. “I don’t mean to be forward and invite you into my bed so soon, but it’s Piz’s night on the couch and I’m not sure when he plans to get home.”

“You’re still living together?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at her.

“New York doesn’t exactly have the best real estate market,” she shrugs. “It’s a work in progress.”

“So, you alternate nights on the couch and avoid coming home for as long as possible?”

“Now you’re getting it.” She makes another move toward the bedroom, waiting for him to follow. “I promise I’m not going to try anything.”

He laughs, finally walking in her direction. “Wouldn’t be mad if you tried.”

Back to the jokes again like the last hour hadn’t happened. Like she hadn’t attacked him in a public park for everything she’s kept bottled up for the last five years. Like she hadn’t completely broken down in his arms after.

_At least he’s not running. At least he’s still here._

Logan sits down on the bed while she pulls out her laptop before joining him. She unlocks it with her password and starts scrolling through her folders of photos looking for the right date. He watches over her shoulder and she gets the sense that he’s trying to fight falling back into old habits. He wants to wrap an arm around her or put his chin on her shoulder or just be touching her in some way. But unlike earlier when his hands freely fell to hers or to her knee, he’s restraining himself.

She’s not the only one with walls.

“Here it is,” she announces, finding the date in question and clicking to open the folder. She clicks on the first image and nudges her laptop in his direction so he can look at them at his own pace. He takes her lead and pulls it closer to him.

The majority of the photos in the folder are shots of the beach and the ocean. Logan surfing in some of them, landscape shots in the others. She watches his expression as he clicks through them, watching the smile twitch at his lips when he opens the one featured at the gallery.

“These are incredible,” he tells her. “You really do have an eye for this stuff.”

She shrugs, watching him get closer and closer to the photos that she knows will throw him. “Yeah well, you and Dick have pretty good eyes yourselves.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” he says, giving her a side-eyed glance.

“Just a few more photos. You’ll see.”

The next picture he opens is Dick’s attempt at taking a picture of himself. He’s only half in the frame and the lens is more focused on the background than his face.

“Oh yeah, Dick definitely deserves an art show of his own look at this masterpiece,” Logan whistles.

“Just keep clicking.”

He does, looking through a series of more unfocused photos featuring varying combinations of the three of them. And then he opens one that he took of her. She’s sitting on a towel facing the ocean with her knees tucked up against her chest. The wind has her hair blowing out behind her like some kind of a model in front of a wind machine. Her eyes are closed and there’s the smallest, happiest, smile on her face. She always thought she looked at peace in the photo. Probably because for that one summer, she actually was.

“I took this,” Logan says quietly. “I remember.”

“I should consider submitting it to modeling agencies as my entire portfolio,” she jokes.

He doesn’t respond right away, still focused on his handiwork. He turns to look at her, reaching out to twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.

“You’re growing your hair out again,” he states matter-of-factly.

She nods. “For now.”

He looks back at the photo again and for a second, she thinks he’s going to ask her to send it to him. But he clicks on the next photo instead, one of the two she has framed and hidden away. Dick had taken the camera back and captured a moment of Logan tackling her into the sand. They’re both laughing and surprisingly in focus. They look happy and that’s why she’s held onto it for so long. She likes the reminder that things were good once. That they’re capable of so much more than yelling and fighting.

He clicks to the next photo without saying anything, to the second one she still likes to keep close. A progression from the tackling, she’s laying on her back on the towel, with Logan on top of her, pinning her arms over her head and kissing her. She remembers Dick telling them to get a room but had no idea he had been taking pictures of them until she looked back through her camera. She’s not sure why, but she never told Logan that these existed. She guesses a part of her wanted to keep them to herself.

There are those walls again.

She watches him click back and forth between the two images, and then back one more to her solo shot. When she turns to meet his gaze, she swears she sees the glisten of tears in his eyes.

_Take things slow. Repair the friendship before the romantic relationship._

But she can’t take him looking at her like that. She knows he’s stuck thinking about that day now, about that summer. The days and nights spent at the beach. The sneaking around to have sex without getting caught by her dad. Feeling like all of the bad stuff was behind them now in their past, left behind once they were freed from the walls of Neptune High. Feeling like, for the first time, they had each other and that was enough.

She aches for that summer, for memories of him not tainted by their downfall. She wants so badly to try again and get back to that place with him now. But a part of her is still too damn afraid to try.

When Logan keeps looking at her like he feels the exact same way, she scoots closer to him on the bed. She lets herself be the one to fall back into old habits, curling into his side with her head against his shoulder. His arms wrap around her and she feels the feather-light brush of his lips against the crown of her head. She could almost cry at the familiarity of it. Maybe he _is_ her home.

“Ready for me to really throw you for a loop?” Logan asks, softly.

“Potentially…”

“Have you ever heard of the country song I Go Back by Kenny Chesney?”

She twists her head to look up at him. “Since when do you listen to country music?”

“I don’t,” he sighs. “I had a roommate at the Naval Academy though who was very into it and very opposed to headphones.”

She laughs at that. “No, I haven’t heard it. What’s it about?”

“He sings about how every time he hears a specific song, and namedrops a few, it takes him back to another place and time. Looking at these photos may not be the same thing as hearing an old favorite song, but they certainly make me feel like we never left that summer. And then I was thinking about that and started singing the damn song in my head.”

She laughs again, reaching over to her laptop to click back to the one where they’re both laughing. “That’s why I haven’t deleted any of these. Not even the blurry ones of half of Dick’s face.”

Logan clicks to the next picture of them kissing. “How do we become those people again? New and improved versions of those people that is.”

She looks down at it, unable to stop herself from thinking about what it was like to have him on top of her. The weight of him, the feel of his skin –

“We don’t give up on each other,” she says. “Even when things get hard.”

“So many things I could say to that.”

She elbows him in the side. “You ask a serious question, get a serious answer, and then you try and make it dirty.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he protests. “I said there are things I _could_ say.”

She debates how far she wants to take this, wonders if the response she wants to give will be crossing some sort of line he’s not ready for. But she’s always known him to be able to handle any innuendo she throws his way.

Veronica leans away from him so she can watch the expression on his face. “As much as I love it when things get _that_ kind of hard –” His eyes widen, and she swears she sees his cheeks flush. “That was not at all what I was referring to.”

“So uh, exactly _how much_ do you love it when things get that particular kind of hard?”

She tries to shoot him her most innocent look. “You don’t remember?”

He visibly swallows in response and she can’t hold back her laughter. “God, you’re so easy.”

“Listen –” he starts to protest, but stops when he hears the sound of the front door open and close.

“Shit,” she mutters, looking over at the clock. “He’s home already?”

“On a scale from one to ten how awkward is this about to get?”

“Uhhh 100?”

“Want me to go hide in your closet?”

She shoots him a look, scooting off the bed. “Just let me go talk to him.”

“Does he blame me?” Logan asks just as she’s about to leave the bedroom.

She looks back over her shoulder at him. “I told him not to, but I think he does.”

“You think he’s going to try and punch me as payback?”

Veronica smirks. “He might. But you can take him.”

He smirks back, before drawing her laptop back toward him to keep looking through her photography. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

“I’ll be sure to yell if I need reinforcements.”

He gives her a little salute and returns his attention to her laptop. She takes a deep breath and walks out into the living room. Piz looks up from the counter where he’s sorting through today’s mail when he hears her footsteps.

“Hey,” she says, moving to grab a bottle of water from the fridge to act like she had a purpose beyond preparing him for running into Logan.

“Hey,” Piz says, looking back down at the set of ads in front of him. “That cereal you like is on sale.”

“Thanks.”

He nods but doesn’t return his gaze to hers.

“You’re home early,” she offers, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I’ve been working too much overtime. They sent me home.”

She tightens her grip on the water bottle. “I uh – just to prepare you, Logan’s here.”

“Jesus, Veronica,” he groans, stepping away from the counter to toss the junk mail into the recycling.

“It’s not like that,” she protests. “He just wanted to see some old pictures I took, that’s all.”

“Yeah I’m sure those were his only intentions,” he grumbles, brushing past her out of the kitchen.

“They are.”

“Doubtful.”

“Will you quit acting like you know him?”

“Will you quit acting like you don’t?”

She glares at him, feeling her anger build. “I know you think you have the two of us completely figured out, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? What do you think is gonna happen here, Veronica? The guy’s in town for a week and then he’s going to leave again.”

She shakes her head at him already walking away from him and back toward the bedroom. “Think whatever you want, Piz, I couldn’t care less about your opinion.”

“If he hurts you again –”

She spins back around to look at him. “If he hurts me again, it’s not your problem. It’s not your responsibility to try and protect and me. But I know what I’m doing. And I’m choosing him.”

She escapes back to the bedroom before he can get another word in, slamming the door behind her a little more forcefully than she intended. She presses her back against the door once she’s behind it, slowly sliding down until she’s seated against it on the floor. Logan looks over at her from his spot on the bed.

“So that went well,” he says.

“How much of it did you hear?” she asks, burying her face in her hands.

“All of it.”

She turns her head up to look at him.

“Does he really think I’m just using you for a quick fuck before I head out of town again? Is that really how I come across?” he asks.

Veronica pushes herself up off the floor, abandoning the water bottle by the door, and rejoins him on the bed. “I know you better than that.”

“You do. But he doesn’t.”

“Just ignore him, Logan. The last thing I need is the two of you getting into another fist fight, whether you’re capable of taking him or not.”

“I’m not using you for anything.”

She reaches up to cup his face in her hands, getting him to look at her. “I know.”

He sighs and leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers. She lets her eyes slipped closed, letting him pull her back against his chest.

“I’m serious about us making it work this time,” he says softly.

“I know,” she tells him again. “I am too.”

* * *

Logan leaves around midnight, despite her protests for him to stay. But he has some early ceremony to go to tomorrow morning before he flies out and still has to pack up his hotel room. She doesn’t know when she’s going to see him again and the thought sits like a heavy ball of anxiety in her chest. They still haven’t even kissed again yet, both of them agreeing they wouldn’t be able to stop there and it would defeat their whole purpose of trying to repair their friendship first.

But she doesn’t curl up against any of her other friends while looking through old photos. She doesn’t let them hold her for extended periods of time, seeking their comfort and craving their touch. She doesn’t make dirty jokes about them. She’s already falling hard for Logan again, and at his reluctance to untangle himself from around her when he finally decided that he had to leave, he’s falling hard for her again too.

This whole taking things slow nonsense may only last them through his next visit.

The next morning, she figures it’s probably time that she call Wallace. He always complains that he feels like he doesn’t know what’s going on in her life anymore with them living so far apart. But she could say the same thing about him. He answers on the third ring, but still sounds half asleep. Crap, she forgot about the time difference. She really should remember that after two years of living on opposite coasts. But again, he’s not much better. The number of times he’s called her just as she was trying to fall asleep…

“Ask me how my week’s been, Wallace.”

“Okay, I’ll bite,” he yawns through the phone. “How’s your week been?”

“I broke up with Piz and got back together with Logan. Well sort of back together anyway, it’s complicated.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” he asks, sounding much more awake than he was a few seconds ago.

She was hoping this news would go over easy, but she knows Wallace too well to know that hope wasn’t coming true. “Logan was here for Fleet Week and we…reconnected.”

“Veronica –”

“I know what it sounds like,” she cuts him off. “But all we did was talk. And we both miss each other, and he makes me feel things that Piz never has and –”

“I know you’re really not about to drag me into another round of your Logan Echolls drama. In the year 2012 no less.”

A part of her feels like she should be offended by that, but he _has_ listened to her complain about Logan for more hours of their friendship than she’s proud of. “There’s no drama, Wallace. We got the shot firing out of the way, and now we’re going to try and make things work.”

“It’s you and Logan we’re talking about, right? The couple who’s on again, off again relationship overshadows Ross and Rachel?”

“Since when you do speak in 90s sitcom references?”

“Vee, what are you doing here?”

She sighs, hearing the sound of the shower turn on. Piz is up. “I realized that as much as I like Piz, I’m never going to be in love with him. And Logan…I’m never going to be over him.”

“And what, Logan’s just been sitting around waiting for you to come back to him?”

She huffs. “No! It sounds like he had a serious relationship with someone, but she ended it.”

He whistles into the phone. “So, you’re trying to be each other’s rebound? You think that’s something that’s actually going to work?”

“It’s not a rebound thing,” she protests. “We’re trying to fix the friendship we broke first.”

“The friendship you had before Lilly died? Cause when I moved here you went from enemies to lovers back and forth on a loop until enemies stuck and now you want to put a hold on lovers to rekindle your middle school feelings?”

“It’s not – it’s different, Wallace. This time is going to be different, I can feel it.”

“You know, if you guys made some ‘if we’re not married by the time we’re 30’ pact, you don’t actually have to keep it. Also, you’ve got a couple of years before either of you are 30.”

Veronica lets out another frustrated sigh. “You complain that I don’t keep you updated on my life enough with us living on opposite coasts, and when I try, you judge me for my decisions.”

“I’m not judging you. I’m trying to look out for you. I know what Logan does to you.”

“Now you sound like Piz,” she mutters.

“Maybe because he was there too. I get not wanting to listen to him about this, thinking he might have ulterior motives as to why he’s so concerned. But you’re like my sister, so listen to me when I tell you the way things ended last time wasn’t pretty.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I appreciate your concern, and Mac’s, and hell even Piz’s, but I’m fully aware of what he does to me. I mean…fuck, I went off on him in the middle of a public park about the Madison thing yesterday, and he went after my inability to let my guard down, and you know what? We both still want to try this thing again. I know you’ve seen us at our lowest, Wallace. But we’ve been friends since before he and I first started dating. You’ve seen us happy together too, haven’t you?”

There’s a pause of silence on the other end of the line before she hears him sigh. “Yeah, I have. I’ve seen you disgustingly happy and all over each other. I know how much you care about him, and that’s why I know it hurts so much worse when it ends.”

“There doesn’t have to be an end to it this time. We’re both willing to put in the work.”

“I hope you’re right about this one. You know I just want you to be happy. And if Logan does that for you, then great, fantastic. He’s a good guy when he tries to be.”

“He’s a Navy pilot now,” she tells him. “A regular stand-up man who appears to have grown out of his bad boy tendencies.”

Wallace snorts. “And you’re still attracted to him?”

She huffs. “I’d smack you if you weren’t on the other side of the country. And to be clear, I never had a thing for bad boys. I just had a thing for him.”

“Still do, by the sounds of it.”

Veronica sighs, leaning back against her headboard and mindlessly picking at a strand of her hair that falls over her shoulder. “What’s new in your life, Wallace? Any of your exes come stumbling back across your path?”

He laughs. “Can’t say that they have. Been on a couple of dates with this girl I met last month though. She’s pretty cool.”

“Aww did my little Wallace find himself a girlfriend? What’s her name? Where’d you meet her? What does she do?”

“Chill, Vee, it’s only been a couple of dates. Her name is Shae. She works in marketing. And I met her through some friends at a party.”

She holds a hand to her chest even though she knows he can’t see it. “You have other friends besides me?”

“You left me all alone out here in California, what did you except me to do? Keep to myself for the rest of my life?”

“I know I personally have not even come close to replacing you while all the way out here in New York.”

“I would be insulted if you did.”

She laughs, holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder, so she can scrape her hair up into a ponytail. “You’re irreplaceable, my friend.”

“Yeah I suppose you are too. That’s why my caring comes off as judging.”

“That may actually be a trait we have in common.”

“Just promise me you’ll listen to your gut on this one. If my memory serves, it’s right more often than not.”

What _is_ her gut telling her about Logan Echolls? Because for the first time in a long time, she can’t hear anything over the demands from her heart.


	6. Chapter 6

_Cause we had a beautiful magic love there_

May turns into June and she and Piz finally find new separate studio apartments in the city. She gets offered the internship at Preston and Burke and appreciates the distraction from constantly thinking about Logan. They’d called each other a handful of times throughout the remainder of May, talking about how he learned how to fly planes and her jokes about how her job at Java the Hut had prepared her more for this internship than law school had. They always kept it surface level, talking about their days and their jobs, and how much of a pain in the ass it was to move in Manhattan.

She finds herself wondering more than once if all of this small talk constitutes them rebuilding their friendship. Wondering if the next time she sees him she can freely throw herself at him without question. She really can’t stop thinking about how badly she wants his mouth on her. Something she finds very distracting when she’s supposed to be pouring over old law cases to find precedent for current cases at work. Especially when she comes across one particular case where the plaintiff’s last name is Logan. It prompts her to take an early lunch and call him.

“Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time,” she tells him once he answers.

“I don’t think I have time for what has become our usual two-hour conversations, but I have a few minutes. What’s up?”

She thinks about when he called her last week and kept her up until 2 AM telling her stories from the Naval Academy. She hadn’t wanted him to stop, instead just wishing she was curled up in the same bed next to him.

“What time does your train get in this weekend?” she asks.

“You already wrote it down, I know you did,” he answers, and she can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“I just want to make sure I have it right.”

“6:46 PM on Friday at Penn Station.”

“Okay,” she nods even though he can’t see her. “I’ll be there.”

“You better be. We only have around 48 hours together, I’m not wasting any of it waiting around a train station for you.”

“You say that like you don’t even intend to sleep.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

“Then what –” she trails off, her mind already stuck on the thought of them not leaving her bed for 48 hours.

_Get it together, Veronica._

“You’re joking,” she says, pushing down the mental images that haven’t left her thoughts for weeks.

“And you think I’m easy,” he teases.

She shakes her head, knowing she walked right into that one. “I’m reading about a case where a guy with the last name of Logan claims his ex-girlfriend broke into his house and stole everything he owned.”

“Is that a threat? I know you’ve had your eye on that grey hoodie of mine for years now, but if you want it that badly I’ll just give it to you.”

“While I won’t object to that –”

“Ever the lawyer,” he interjects, causing her to roll her eyes.

“I only bring it up because seeing your name in print over and over in this court document, made me think of you.”

“Ah yes, all of my previous run-ins with the law based on entirely false accusations.”

“You can’t just give me a moment to be sappy about missing you, huh?”

“No.”

His blunt answer throws her off and she wonders what’s going on in his head.

“Care to elaborate?” she asks.

“I don’t want to think about you missing me because it only makes me miss you more.”

“God,” she snorts, rolling her eyes again.

“You wanted sappy, you got sappy.”

“Be careful what you wish for I guess.”

“See you on Friday, Vee. Wear something slutty.”

“Did you just –” but he hangs up on her before she can finish the thought. The bastard. Two can play this game. She checks her watch to see how much time she has left on her lunch break. There’s a lingerie store a couple blocks down from her office building, and she fully intends to send him a picture of whatever is featured in their window display.

Veronica decides she has the time, so she walks over to the storefront, and uses her phone to take a picture of the barely-there black lace teddy dressed on the window mannequin. She texts it to Logan with the caption ‘something like this?’ and shoves her phone in her pocket, in an attempt to torture him further by not responding right away.

It’s only when she returns to her stack of case files and can’t manage to focus on reading them any longer due to her curiosity of his response, that she finally allows herself to pull her phone back out. She notices she also has a text from her dad, but she opens Logan’s first.

_If you show up to the train station wearing that, you may also have to bring your old out of order bathroom sign._

She feels her throat run dry at the memory of him making out with her in the girl’s bathroom in high school. She thinks about how bad she wanted him, even then. How she wanted to completely skip her next class so he could keep trailing kisses down her neck, while his hands fisted into her hair. Thinks about how hard it was to keep her lips off of his when he tried to leave for his physics class.

Maybe she’ll bring a new out of order sign with her…just in case.

* * *

When she spots him in the crowd at Penn Station, she has to fight the urge to run right into his arms. But she wants to stick to her plan, and that requires him to come to her. Veronica holds up her sign, her grin spreading as he gets closer to her. He points to her sign with his name written on it.

“You here to pick up Logan Echolls?” he asks.

She turns the sign around to reveal the other side, an out of order sign looking suspiciously like one you’d find inside Penn Station. He bursts out laughing when he reads it, plucking it out of her hands to admire her handiwork.

“So, what does this mean you’re wearing under your clothes?” he asks.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

He shoots her a look she hasn’t seen in years, one that tells her he’s up to something. Logan takes another step toward her and she swears he’s about to pull her in for a kiss with the way he’s looking at her. But all he does is reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear.

He’s going to be the death of her, she’s sure of it.

“So, uh,” he starts. “Did you have a particular bathroom in mind or –”

Now she’s the one shooting him a curious look. “You took a train to New York all the way from Washington D.C. to make out with me in a train station bathroom? That’s some serious dedication. So romantic.”

“Okay smartass,” he says, hoisting his duffle bag higher up on his shoulder and draping his other arm around her shoulders. “What did you have planned for us on this warm summer evening?”

“Oh, I was supposed to plan something?” she asks, innocently. “I was just told to come find you at Penn.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, what’s around here?”

“Madison Square Garden. We could watch the Knicks play.”

“It’s not basketball season. Has Wallace taught you nothing?”

“He taught me that the Knicks play at Madison Square Garden.”

“Fair enough,” Logan laughs again, guiding them toward an exit. “What else you got?”

“Bryant Park is a couple blocks from here. About a 15 minute walk.”

“Are you trying to take me to another public park to yell at me again?”

“That depends, do you deserve to be yelled at?”

They step out into the night air, the sun still hanging on to the horizon between the buildings of the city and his arm still draped around her. “I don’t know. You tell me. What other demons you got hiding in your closet?”

“Logan –”

“You were right, you know? We have to air out whatever dirty laundry we’re still harboring to get this to work this time.”

“You didn’t want to get into this in one of our many late night phone conversations?”

“Nah, seems like more of an in-person problem.”

She nudges his hip with her own. “What makes you think I have more issues with you?”

“Just trying to cover all of my bases.”

She realizes she’s letting him lead, and he’s taking them in the completely wrong direction. She tugs on him to turn him around and he laughs, realizing he had no idea where he was going.

“There’s nothing else, Logan. I just want to know that I can trust you. That’s always been my thing. I don’t trust people very easily.”

“You can trust me. I promise.”

She looks up at him as they wait at a crosswalk. She swears she’s already reading something in his expression that looks like love. Does he really love her again, already? Had he ever stopped?

“What about you?” she asks, as the light changes and they make their way across the street. “What do you need from me?”

He’s quiet for a few more steps, Bryant Park just coming into view before he speaks again. “For you to not shut me out.”

The words sting even though she knows it’s true. It’s definitely something she’s guilty of. She’s got secrets her dad still doesn’t even know about. She’s the queen of keeping things to herself.

“I’ll do better,” she tells him. “I promise.”

He bends to kiss her temple and her eyes slip closed at the touch of his lips. She finds herself wondering if it’s possible to curl further into his side while still walking. They still have five years of distance to make up for here.

“It’s more magical around Christmas,” she says as they get closer. “There’s a holiday market and a huge tree and an ice skating rink.”

“You gonna be here at Christmas?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ll go home to my dad like I always do. But it gets all festive right after Thanksgiving so you can plan a visit beforehand.”

He nods, his gaze trained across the street at the small park. Then a thought hits her which twists knots in her stomach. If she’s his family…

“Logan, what have you been doing on Christmas the past couple of years?”

He shrugs, guiding her across the street as the light changes. “I spend ‘em with Dick. His dad’s still in jail, so we’re both orphans when the holidays come around. He usually throws some giant party I manage to duck out of at a decent hour. But it’s fine. I’ve never been big on Christmas. Not since the nice old memories of Santa Claus were replaced with ones of my alcoholic father taking swings at me for not being a better son.”

She lets her hand around his waist slip under the hem of his T-shirt, seeking the scar she knows is on his lower back from Aaron. She brushes her thumb over it, thinking about the night he finally told her about the abuse and she’d kissed all of his scars. She still ranks it as the most intimate night they’d ever spent together. Logan shivers under her touch, his arm around her pulling her into him a little closer.

“Spend Christmas with my dad and I,” she offers as they finally walk into the park.

“Veronica –”

“I know it’s only June and a lot can happen in six months, but I want you there. We keep it simple. A few presents, Chinese take-out, old Christmas movies.”

Logan hums. “That does sound nice. Your family always do it that way?”

She shakes her head. “Mom hated Chinese food. Or hates. I assume she still does. Wherever she is.”

He pulls her in tighter again, maneuvering them to a bench that faces the New York Public Library.

“No, she always insisted on cooking,” Veronica continues. “Almost burned the house down once when she spilled her vodka all over the stove. If you know what you’re looking for, you can still see the scorch marks on the ceiling. She never hit me, but I know all too well the struggles of having an alcoholic parent.”

“We really drew the short straws, huh?”

She nods. “Yeah, if it wasn’t for my dad –”

He kisses her temple again and she wonders how appropriate it would be to climb onto his lap in this park.

“Do you ever hear from her?” Logan asks.

“Not since I tried to get her into rehab before I started college. We made her that miserable I guess.”

“At least she didn’t jump off of a bridge to get away from you.”

“She wasn’t trying to get away from _you_ , Logan.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s still hard for me to forgive her for leaving me alone with that bastard though. As far as I know, he stopped hitting her once he started hitting me.”

She presses herself into his side as close as she can, both of her arms slipping around his torso. She’s long since learned she can’t talk him out of his pain about this. The thing that always seems to help him most is her touch. And since she’s the one who got him on this topic, she feels the need to be extra clingy despite their public setting. She moves one arm from around him to play with his hair, allowing her lips to brush across the tiny scar on his neck.

She hears his breath hitch in his throat.

“You still know where all of them are?” he asks.

She nods.

“You surprise me sometimes, you know that?” he asks, one hand coming up to brush the pad of his thumb against her cheek.

She leans into his touch. “Why is it so shocking that I still have you memorized? I spent enough time doing it.”

His breath hitches again as he bends his forehead to press it against hers. She’s _this_ close to saying fuck it and crawling into his lap. Honestly.

“Do you still have that scar I accidentally gave you?” he asks.

“What do you think?” she asks, flipping over her left palm for him to see.

He traces over the thin line with his index finger. “Note to self, don’t sneak up on people while they’re wielding a sharp knife.”

“I was just trying to slice us some bagels and ended up with this permanent reminder of you.”

“You’re right, I should have done better. I should have at least left you with a sex scar.”

“What?” she laughs. “How the hell would you manage that?”

“I don’t know. Taking you too hard against a wall or counter or something.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, biting down on her lower lip as the mental image he’s just described plays out in her mind. He has to know what he’s doing to her. Has to know she can only refrain herself from jumping him for so long.

“Want to just grab some takeout and stay in and watch a movie tonight?” she asks.

He nods, standing up and extending his hand to her. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter this week, but it was the best spot to end it and keep all of chapter 7 together. Thank you all so much for your kind words and love so far! It means so much to me to hear that you're enjoying this.


	7. Chapter 7

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

They settle into her new apartment with their food, she’d talked him into just getting Shake Shack, and Logan commandeers her remote and control of her Netflix. After she vetoes three of his selections, she steals the remote back and starts clicking through titles on her own. The preview of the movie or show plays automatically when the cursor is selected over it. 

“Woah, woah wait go back,” Logan tells her. “That girl looked like you.”

He takes the remote from her again and moves the cursor to select a movie called _Burlesque._

She snorts. “Which one? Christina Aguilera or Cher?”

“No, no, one of the others let’s watch this,” he says, clicking on it.

“Logan, I’m not watching a movie about a glorified strip club,” she tries to protest and take the remote from him. He holds it away from her.

“I don’t think they like being called that.”

She rolls her eyes, watching as Christina Aguilera quits her waitress job to move to L.A. She can’t believe he picked this. 

“There, right there, that poster pause it,” Logan says.

“You still have the remote.”

He pushes the button to rewind and pauses the movie on a poster of a brunette draped in fur and posing with her mouth open.

“Okay, you two could be twins how creepy is that?” he asks.

She shoots him a look. “First of all, when I have ever been a brunette? And secondly, when have I ever made that face?”

He clicks his tongue. “Well –”

She shakes her head, trying to take the remote from him again. “Stop, stop it right there, I don’t want to know. Come on, Logan, let’s watch something else she’s probably barely in this.”

“But now I need to know,” he practically pouts already hitting play again.

The brunette makes her grand appearance in the film, acting like she owns the place.

“Wow your twin is a bitch,” he whistles. “But fuck she’s hot.”

“I’m going to kill you. Actually kill you,” Veronica mutters. “And I know plenty of lawyers.”

The dancers are performing to “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” when the brunette makes her appearance on the stage in very scantily clad lingerie. Her bra is completely sheer except for two black satin circles around her nipples. And her underwear isn’t much better, also completely sheer minus a satin black diamond right on the front of it. She’s also wearing sheer knee highs, black heels, and diamonds around her neck and wrists.

“Can you,” Logan starts, clearing his throat, “buy something like that? Hell, I’ll buy it I just want you to wear it.”

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, knowing full well she’d never be caught dead wearing anything like that.

The brunette is on stage again, this time doing a solo number with very suggestive dancing. She’s wearing a sheer body suit now with black lacey trim covering only enough areas of her body to keep her from looking completely naked.

“I take it back, I’m buying you this one,” he tells her.

He’s practically drooling and she doesn’t really think about the next comment that comes out of her mouth until she says it.

“You couldn’t even fuck me in that, you’d have to rip open the crotch area.”

“I’d be fine with that,” he answers, not taking his eyes off of the TV.

She starts coughing as though she just started choking on air. Did he just admit to wanting to fuck her? Is him watching this chick who she only kind of sort of sees the resemblance to herself dance around half naked some sort of foreplay for him?

“I’m not wearing that,” she tells him.

“Can you at least dance like that?”

“Please that’s not dancing,” she points to the screen as the brunette lifts her hips off the stage and throws her head back. “I’m completely capable of arching my back.”

“True, I’ve seen you do that.”

She feels her mouth go dry at the thought. He’s been picturing them in bed lately just as much as she has, hasn’t he? He’s thinking about the way her hips lift up when he goes down on her. At least that’s what _she’s_ thinking about…

“Oh look she’s back,” he says as the movie returns to more of her solo number. “Okay, I’ve definitely seen you make that face.”

“I don’t look like that.”

“You do when I –”

“Okay I get it,” she cuts him off, really not enjoying being told what her orgasm face looks like.

The brunette disappears from the movie for a while and Veronica is almost grateful for her departure. But then she’s back, being her character’s usual obnoxious self.

“Why don’t you ever wear red lipstick?” Logan asks.

“When have I ever worn any shade of lipstick?”

“What are you supposed to be in that? A sexy cop?”

It’s like he’s not even listening to her responses. “I don’t think so.”

“Oof, you’re a drunk.”

“Can you stop referring to this character as me?”

The scene progresses and Logan bursts out laughing when the character pulls the plug on the music. “If that isn’t a signature Veronica Mars smirk, I don’t know what is.”

She elbows him hard in the side, but it just makes him laugh even harder.

“Oh she is _pissed_ her planned backfired. I’ve been on the receiving end of one of those looks before.”

“Yeah, you’re getting one right now,” she grumbles, glaring at him.

Another long, blissful progression of scenes without her until she shows back up acting all over dramatic.

“You think that was her last scene? Is she gonna come back?”

Veronica almost smirks. “Well she just quit and told her ex-boss she slept with her husband I think she’s done.”

“A tragedy.”

She really did think she’d seen the last of her, but nope here she is again in a bridesmaid’s dress.

“Oh look she came back for the wedding!” Logan says, sounding entirely too happy to see her.

“How nice of her,” Veronica responds drily. “She’s probably just there for the booze.”

“Now who is this random guy she’s with?”

“Her latest fuck toy,” she shrugs, this time earning herself a look from him. 

She was _really_ sure that was the last of her, but nope she’s wrong yet again.

“Look you came back to apologize!”

She’s starting to find it amusing how into this movie Logan is getting. But honestly, he’s only excited about the scenes involving her evil twin.

“I thought we were done referring to her as me.”

“I wonder if I’ll get to see her in one more slutty outfit,” he muses aloud as the movie starts to seem like it’s wrapping up and coming to an end.

“She looks pretty fully clothed there to me,” she says, nudging his side. “Too bad.”

“But oh look there she is,” she points out again a few minutes later. “It’s short and glittery but not quite the lingerie you were looking for I’m afraid.”

He shrugs. “She’s still hot.”

She knows his fascination and attraction to this character, whether actually sincere or all in playful fun, stems from the fact that he thinks she’s her identical, brunette twin. Realistically, she knows his arousal is all for her. She’d be flattered if she wasn’t so creeped out by the whole thing. The more she stares at her movie doppelganger, the more she sees the resemblance.

And then there’s that small, irritating voice in the back of her mind, trying to remind her of her trust issues. The one trying to resurface her previous doubts about him from college. The one that had forced her to make jokes about other girls he was seeing and hookers trying to gauge how much of him she really had, until her constant questioning forced a wedge between them. Her constant insistence, whether she was joking or not, that there was someone else besides her was probably more of a catalyst for the end of their relationship than the Madison thing.

She looks over at him, remembering how he was looking at her earlier. Remembering that even at 19, he’d told her she was all that he wanted.

_Trust him, Veronica. He’s here because he wants you_.

When the movie ends and the credits start rolling, she moves to straddle his hips. She feels his arousal pressing into her thigh and wonders if he’s been this hard on and off since the movie started with those first couple of lingerie scenes.

She leans forward and nips at his ear. “I swear to god if you buy me a brunette wig.”

“Why would I do that?” he asks, as his hands come to rest on the curve of her ass. “You know I have a thing for blondes.”

She can’t take it anymore; she has to kiss him. She has to let him know all these things she’s feeling that she hasn’t yet been able to put into words. She leans forward and presses her lips to his. One of his hands stays on her ass, but the other comes up to fist in her hair. He’s the one to deepen the kiss and she feels like she could just melt against him with the familiarity of all of the sensations overwhelming her.

It’s like no time has passed between them at all. They still know each other, still have each other memorized. The familiarity of his taste and his touch swells in her chest and she never wants this to stop. How she managed to go five years without his mouth on her she’ll never know.

Her hips rock into his and he already has her moaning. She needs more of him, all of him. Logan breaks the kiss and she starts to protest, but his lips find that spot on her neck that always drives her wild. She pitches her hips forward again as he nips at her skin.

Veronica cups his face in her hands and pulls his mouth back to hers. His hands slip under her shirt, his thumbs grazing her skin underneath her bra. She wants his hands on her. Needs to feel his touch all over her -

“Did someone just knock?” Logan asks, pulling away from her to crane his head toward her front door.

“If they did, ignore them,” she says, trying to pull his head back to her.

“No, I swear I heard something.”

“Logan, please,” she hates begging for it, because he always uses that to hold it over her, tease her until all he has to do is touch her to get her to shatter.

But she too hears the knocking this time, followed by a “fire department.” She groans and climbs off of him, moving to answer the door. A firefighter is staring back at her and suddenly she can hear the fire alarm ringing a lot quieter than it should be from the hallway.

“Ma’am it appears the fire alarms on this side of the building are in need of some service, but we’re going to need you to evacuate.”

“I’m sorry, what? We have to leave so can you replace some batteries?”

“No, there’s actually a fire in this building. Consider me your fire alarm until we can look into that issue further.”

Behind her, Logan bursts out laughing. “This is the same kind of cock-blocking action we got in high school.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbles, grabbing her keys while Logan gets their shoes.

“Never a dull moment with you,” he whispers in her ear as they head down the stairwell with the rest of the residents from her floor.

“So not how I saw this evening going.”

“What did you have in mind?” he asks, shooting her a knowing look.

She curls her fingers into the collar of his shirt, being careful to watch the stairs as she presses herself into his back. “Not really something I feel comfortable describing with all of these people around.”

He visibly swallows. “Were you gonna act out some of those _Burlesque_ scenes for me?”

“I might have. Just without her caliber of lingerie.”

He grunts at the thought, already trying to look behind him for some all clear signal. They make it outside with the rest of her building, all of the residents crowded down the sidewalk.

“How long are they going to keep us out here do you think?” he asks.

She shrugs. “This hasn’t happened to me out here yet. I have no answer for you.”

“So, you dragged me all the way back to New York to stand on the sidewalk with a bunch of strangers?”

“At least it’s not cold. Or raining.”

“We could go somewhere else to wait this out?” he suggests, tugging on her shirt.

She looks up at him, sees the mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you suggesting we pay for a hotel room so we can finish what we started?”

“You said it, not me.”

Oh she wants to, she really wants to.

“What happened to taking things slow?” she asks.

“I was a gentleman all of Fleet Week.”

“And what are you now?”

He presses himself against her back, his hands falling to her hips, his voice in her ear. “Quite the opposite.”

She feels the shiver run through her, straight to her core. She’ll take him right here on the sidewalk. There’s no one else around when they’re looking at each other, right?

“There’s just one problem with your plan there, bud,” she tells him, wanting to kick herself for her lack of fire evacuation preparation.

Another nip to her ear. “And what’s that?”

“Neither of us brought down our wallets.”

* * *

They were out on the sidewalk for about an hour before being given the all clear to go back inside. The mood from earlier had passed and they both agreed to just get some sleep and pick it back up tomorrow.

She wakes up before he does and catches herself watching the simple rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps. It’s weird having him in her bed, made even weirder by the fact that neither of them are naked. She debates sneaking out to grab them breakfast from a place around the corner from her building, but worries about what he’d think to waking up without her there. She tells herself he’d be fine with it, but still she can’t bring herself to leave him or the comfort of her bed.

By the time her stomach finally convinces her into doing it, he stirs beside her. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, about to stand up, when she feels the press of his fingertips against the skin on her lower back. It’s enough to make her crawl back into bed with him and rest her head and arms on his chest.

“Trying to sneak out on me?” he asks, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

“Was just going to get breakfast from around the corner. But we can go somewhere else if you want, now that you’re up.”

“Whatever’s around the corner is fine. I want to see your New York, remember? Not the tourist version.”

She hums. “I thought you wanted to see the view from the top of the Empire State Building today. You think that’s part of my daily law student routine?”

“Okay, so maybe we can fit _some_ touristy stuff in.” 

She laughs at that and he joins her. The domesticity of lying in bed with Logan, laughing as the summer sun spills in from behind the curtains, catches in her chest and she has to roll off of him. She’s still too afraid to get too used to this. They still don’t live in the same city, not even the same state. If she gets too comfortable, it’ll be that much harder when he has to leave.

Logan rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her. “You’re much prettier as a blonde.”

She gives him a small smile, reaching up to poke his chest. “You’re only saying that because you want me to feed you.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” he says, bending down to kiss her. “And because I want you to feed me.”

She shakes her head, finally managing to roll herself out of bed and head toward her small bathroom.

“I can join you in the shower if you want. You know, help save water,” he offers.

She turns back around to face him, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. “If we start that now, we won’t leave the apartment all day.”

He smirks. “The city will still be there tomorrow.”

“I thought you were hungry.”

“And I thought I heard you begging before the fire department interrupted us last night.”

She rolls her eyes, but can’t stop her grin or her blush from spreading. “Me?” she asks, innocently. “Begging for you?”

Logan pushes back the covers and climbs out of bed, walking over to her. He stands so close, he’s practically pinning her to the wall with his body. He braces his hands on the wall above her head and it takes every ounce of her self-control not to run her hands over his new military-grade muscles.

“And what would you call the words ‘Logan, please’ accompanied by the roll of your hips into mine?” he asks.

She looks up at him, fighting the urge to pull him up against her and wrap her legs around his waist. “Polite desire.”

He flashes her one of his shit-eating grins, a soft chuckle following suit. Maybe she _should_ adjust their day’s plans so they can spend the entirety of this one in bed.

“Maybe –” she starts.

“Too late,” he says, pushing himself back away from her. “The offer has already expired. You shower. I’ll go find us food.”

“But Logan –”

“Oh? What’s this? More begging?”

“You’re an asshole,” she huffs.

Logan grins at her again. “And yet you insist on keeping me around.”


	8. Chapter 8

_Distance, timing_

_Breakdown, fighting_

They’re just about to walk into the Empire State Building to buy tickets to go to the top, when Logan’s phone rings. He checks the caller ID, apologizes for needing to take the call, and walks down the sidewalk away from her. She stares after him, her curiosity peaked. Whoever’s calling him, he didn’t want her to overhear. She tells herself it’s probably just work related, but that doesn’t ease the stupid voice in the back of her mind.

When he’s still on the line with his mystery caller a few minutes later, she manages to get his attention to let him know she’s going to go stand in line for tickets and he can join her when he’s done. He finally reappears at her side just as the sales associate is handing her the tickets and her receipt.

“Who was that?” Veronica asks, handing him one of the tickets.

He rubs at the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes. “Nobody.”

She nudges him in the direction of the line for the next elevator. “Nobody kept you on the line with them for 20 minutes? Are you having long, private conversations with yourself these days?”

“Just forget about it. It wasn’t important.”

He seems to forget who he’s dealing with here. She has never possessed the ability to simply “forget” something.

“Was it work related?” she tries again, as the line shuffles forward. “Someone from the Navy?”

“I’m asking you to drop it, Veronica. So please, just drop it.”

His demeanor has completely shifted. He’s not the same teasing Logan she woke up next to this morning, nor even the same matured Navy Pilot Logan she’d run into during Fleet Week. No, this was freshmen year at Hearst hiding details about winter break Logan. She had really hoped she’d never see him again.

“What happened to no more secrets?” she asks as they step into the elevator that will take them to the next floor to wait in another line.

He looks over at her as the doors close, but doesn’t speak until they’re standing in the next line.

“I need you to trust me on this one, okay?”

“No,” she tells him, a little louder than intended, earning them a couple of glances from the people ahead of them in line. “The last time you fed me that bullshit line I found out about Madison _from_ Madison.”

“It’s not like that this time. How could it be? We’re not even together.”

That punches her right in the gut. “We’re not?”

The man in front of them whistles and then tries to cover it up with a cough.

“I mean it’s not like – we’re still trying to –” Logan stammers. “Can we not do this here?”

“No, no, you’re right,” she shrugs as the line moves forward again. “We never agreed to keep it exclusive while we tried to mend our friendship first. Go ahead and sleep with whoever you like.”

The man coughs again.

“Veronica,” he sighs, continuing to rub at the back of his neck. “There is no one else. I haven’t been with anyone since Allison broke up with me. Certainly not since you and I have gotten back into each other’s lives. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“But we’re not together,” she repeats. “So then what was last night? And this morning?”

The woman in front of them whispers something to the man who keeps coughing. Let them gossip. She doesn’t know these people. They could live on another continent for all she knows.

“I thought I’d made it pretty clear that I was in this, Logan. Have I not?”

The line moves forward as the next group of people step into an elevator.

“No, you have. I am too. I’m in this. I want this.”

“Then why won’t you just tell me who was on the phone?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

She scrubs a hand over her face, before bringing up her other hand to straighten out her ponytail. “That, that right there is the problem.”

“How –”

“You really don’t see it, do you? We’ve had this exact same argument before. You know we have.” She shakes her head, looking down at the floor as they shuffle forward again. “You kept telling me you couldn’t tell me what was going on because it would hurt me. And eventually you made up some story about a fire, to tide me over and keep me from finding out the real truth. And finding out what _really_ happened, not from you but from _her_ , made it hurt that much worse. Whatever it is, Logan, just tell me.”

The line around them seems to wait with bated breath. They’ve managed to get the crowd of strangers around them completely involved in their latest relationship drama. What’s a trip to New York without her completely going off on him in a public setting? Seems about right.

“It was Allison,” he answers, quietly.

She feels like the wind was just knocked out of her. “Your ex? The one you were in love with?”

He nods and she has to force her gaze to look anywhere but at him.

“What did she want?” Veronica asks.

The next elevator arrives and the couple in front of them seem thoroughly disappointed to be the cut off point for the line, missing out on the remainder of their conversation.

“She wanted to apologize. Asked if I’d give her another chance.”

She feels her own sharp intake of breath, wrapping her arms around herself as though they could protect her from what he’s going to say next. “What’d you tell her?”

“I told her no. That there’s someone else. Someone I shouldn’t have let get away in the first place.”

She still can’t look at him. One look and she’s going to start crying. How does he do this to her? How does he manage to make her feel a whole spectrum of emotions at once?

“But we’re not together,” she says lamely.

The empty elevator doors open for them. And they pile inside with whoever else behind them in line can fit.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

Silence hangs over them as the elevator ride takes them up to the top. When they step out, she heads over to one of the large windows in the room next to a panel detailing the construction of the building. She can sense their audience from earlier lingering in the room a bit, hesitant to head out to the observation deck without hearing the conclusion to this.

She keeps her arms crossed over her chest, still staring down at her feet. “You have to talk to me,” she tells him. “We can’t fix this, if I don’t know what’s going on with you. You want to accuse me of putting up walls, that’s fine. I know I do it. But you have to realize you do it too. A wall to protect me is just the same as a wall to keep you from getting in.”

She feels the gentle pressure of his fingertips at her chin, trying to nudge her gaze up to meet his. Reluctantly, she lets him, his eyes locking onto hers.

“I meant what I said at the coffee shop last month,” he tells her. “When I was with her, I thought I was in love with her. But if I compare her to you…”

“Then what, Logan? All you have to do is think about me and you don’t love her anymore?”

“She doesn’t know me like you do. She’s not…I don’t look at her and feel like I’m home. So yeah, yes, I did love her, she was important to me. But she’s not you. And given the choice, I’d choose you every time.”

She swears she hears someone in their vicinity mutter “what a line,” but when she looks at their surroundings nobody appears to be in immediate earshot.

“I’m sorry,” she says, uncrossing her arms and placing one of her hands on his arm. “You should be able to take personal phone calls and not have to explain yourself to me. I just –”

“Trust issues?”

She nods. “I’m trying. I just suck at it.”

“To be fair, I could have handled it better. I was on the phone for a while when I’m supposed to be here spending time with you. It’s normal to want to know what was taking me so long. I should have just given you a straight answer when you asked.”

Her fingers curl around his arm. “Is this us having a healthy, adult conversation, with both of us admitting that we were wrong?”

He clucks his tongue, the tiniest smirk twitching at his lips. “Well would you look at that.”

“Maybe we are mature enough for a relationship this time. If you can actually admit to the fact that we’re in one.”

Logan pulls her against his chest, cupping her face in his hands. “Veronica Mars, will you be my girlfriend again?”

“That was the cheesiest possible way for you to do that, but yes.”

“Nah, I could have gotten down on one knee. That would have been much worse.”

“Our audience would have loved that.”

“I still can.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes away from him, grabbing his hand to lead him out to the observation deck. “Come on, _boyfriend_ , let’s go check out this view.”

Veronica leads him out to look at the skyline. Logan stands next to her with one arm draped around her waist, looking out over the city.

“I don’t miss her. I need you to know that,” he says quietly. “I know the guys were giving me crap about the break up still last month, but…”

She wraps an arm around his waist, mirroring him. “Why did she end it?”

He laughs at the thought, shaking his head. “You’re still an emergency contact in my phone. She couldn’t get past that.”

“You’re not allowed to have female friends?”

He looks down at her and then back out at the city. “I still have a picture of us I keep around. We’re sitting on the grass somewhere, looking at each other and laughing.”

She nods, curling into his side a little tighter. “I know the photo.”

“And Allison had seen it dozens of times. But she knew I had a girlfriend who was murdered in high school.”

“She thought that I was Lilly.”

He nods this time. “So, adding together you still being listed as an emergency contact and learning the truth about that old photo…she was convinced I was still hung up on you and that I could never really be there for her the way that she wanted me to be.”

“Did you tell her today that someone else you found was me?”

He sighs. “I didn’t have to.”

“I’m sorry, Logan.”

“Don’t be,” he says, kissing the crown of her head. “I ended up right where I wanted to be. Even managed to break you and Piz up along the way, so equally guilty party here.”

“Couple of heartbreakers,” she mutters, causing him to laugh.

“What do you say we put this phone of mine to good use and get someone to take an updated picture of us?”

She eyes his iPhone. “You should have said something, I would have brought my good camera.”

“It’s not like we need to frame it or anything. I just want a new one. The camera on this is fine.”

“Fine?” she repeats. “I almost brought my camera I really did, but I didn’t want to carry it around.”

He smirks at her before stepping away to eye the crowd. “See any members of our fan club?”

He eventually finds someone to take one for them and when the woman hands his phone back, she tells him she took a couple including some candid ones. Oh yeah, she had definitely been in line around them earlier. Veronica watches Logan swipe through the photos, the posed ones where they’re smiling at the camera side by side with an arm around each other, the candid ones the woman took where neither of them are ready nor looking at the camera.

“Wait, go back to that last one,” she tells him.

He swipes back to the last photo. She has both her arms around his waist and is looking up at him and grinning. He’s looking back at her with a smirk on his face. She figures this was taken when they were trying to figure out how they wanted to pose.

“Send me that one?” she asks.

“My iPhone camera is suddenly good enough for you?”

“I mean, if it’s good enough for Logan Echolls…”

He laughs, already pulling up their text thread to send it to her. “Done.”

She feels his eyes on her as she pulls out her phone to look at the photo.

“You and your artsy shots,” he tells her.

She tosses him a small smile. “I don’t like posed photos. They’re not real.”

“Oh, listen to the photographer over here,” he says teasingly, draping an arm around her shoulders. “Such an opinion about everything. Or maybe that’s the lawyer in you.”

She shrugs as she lets him guide her to another side of the tower. “Probably a little of both.”

“What else do you have planned for our day?”

“I told you at Penn yesterday, I didn’t plan anything. We’re just here,” she says, spreading her arms out wide, gesturing at the city and almost hitting him in the face in the process.

“On today’s edition of what’s around here?”

“Would you believe still Madison Square Garden?”

“How do we keep ending up here?”

She smirks. “Have those pastries you brought us this morning worn off yet? I know a place we can go eat lunch.”

“Let me get my money’s worth of this view and then we can go.”

“I bought the tickets.”

“Well then, guess lunch is on me.”

* * *

She takes him to Eataly near the Flatiron Building. They put their name in with the hostess at the pasta restaurant, and then aimlessly wander through the market while they wait for their table. Logan keeps picking up things he wants to buy and trying to hand them to her, and she keeps putting them back telling him they need to be refrigerated and they’re not close enough to her apartment down here. After a certain point, she starts to think he’s doing it on purpose. He finds a bottle of wine he wants to try and settles on buying it after they eat.

Once they’re seated and their orders have been placed, she catches him fidgeting with his napkin more than usual.

“Something on your mind?” she asks. “Besides that huge wheel of gouda you have no actual need for in your life?”

“We’re good, right?” he asks in return. “With the Allison thing?”

She gives him a small smile, knowing how hard he’s trying, how determined he is to make things work between them this time. He doesn’t want to be responsible for screwing things up. And neither does she. “Yeah. Are you good with it?”

He nods, still fidgeting with the napkin.

“Logan, I know you well enough to know when you’re not saying something.”

He lets out a sigh, finally just folding the napkin over his lap. “I just keep thinking about what she said to me. About me still being hung up on a girl from high school. I left out the fact that we’ve known each other since we were 12.”

“Do you take issue with the fact that we’ve known each other that long? Or that it’s been that long since we’ve dated?”

“No, because if you look at it under different terms, say the five-year gap in our dating history was us from age 25 to age 30, it wouldn’t be that weird. But she’s hung up on this high school thing.”

“You care that badly what she thinks?”

“No,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“But she’s in your head now,” Veronica concludes. “And you feel like you need to justify us.”

“God, she just –” he shakes his head. “She gets under my skin, you know? And not in the way you used to.”

She smirks at him. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

He looks at her, almost helplessly, and she can’t help but laugh.

“I get it, Logan. That’s how I’ve been feeling about Piz this past month. Hell, I’ve even got Mac and Wallace questioning if this is a good idea. They mean well, maybe even our exes do too, but they don’t know _us_. Not really anyway. They hear about the fighting and they hyper-fixate on that.”

Now he starts fidgeting with the silverware on the table, twirling one of his forks around with his index finger. “We’ll prove them all wrong. Get married or something.”

“What’s the ‘or something’ to marriage?”

He shrugs, dropping his hand back into his lap. “You know I’ve always been attracted to you, right? For as long as I’ve known you?”

She shoots him a look, silently questioning his change in subject. Was he weirding himself out by bringing up marriage when earlier today he wasn’t even sure if they were dating? “Yeah you mentioned that at sophomore homecoming. You were hot for me in my soccer uniform.”

“You were still hot even after the soccer phase.”

“Oh yeah?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “So why didn’t you ask me out instead of Lilly?”

She asks it not really expecting an answer. Logan and Lilly. Her and Duncan. It had made sense back then. She had never really entertained the idea of being with Logan until he thought she was in danger at The Camelot when their school was getting bomb threats. Not until she kissed him, and he kissed her back like he needed her as badly as he needed air.

“And what? Disrupt that doe-eyed girl look you used to give to Duncan?” he asks, picking up his fork and pointing it at her in accusation.

And yes, she’d had a crush on Duncan for a long time. But in the beginning, she’d had a crush on Logan too. One she shut down once Lilly had expressed her interest. She didn’t want to lose her best friend over a guy, especially not when she found said best friend’s brother to be just as cute.

“He’s not the only one I gave that look to,” Veronica shrugs.

That throws him for a loop, she can tell. Had young Logan not noticed her sneaking looks at him in middle school?

“You had a crush on me?” he asks her.

She clucks her tongue. “Maybe it is true what they say about me. I’m a slut. Had it bad for two guys at the same time.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Are you saying we could have started dating earlier? That I may never have even dated Lilly?”

“Listen, I only backed off because she said that she liked you. And she could tell that I liked her brother so she determined it was a match made in heaven so I could be her sister.”

“She Cupid’ed us.”

“Now you’re just making up words.”

Logan runs his fingers through his hair shaking his head again. He’s muttering to himself about this seemingly brand new information.

“Hey Logan?”

He hums in response, meeting her gaze.

“How different do you think things would be if you’d asked me out instead of Lilly?”

It was a thought she’d entertained before, wondering if her friend would have still gotten involved with Aaron if she wasn’t as constantly around Logan. Maybe she’d still be alive.

“Well, my father probably would have decided to try and seduce you instead. And when you rejected him, because believe it or not I do actually know you, he might have gotten angry and thrown an ash tray at your head.”

She groans, chucking her wadded up straw wrapper at him. “I’m serious.”

He scoffs. “So am I.”

“So, if you had dated me instead of Lilly, I would have ended up dead instead? That’s just automatically how it works?”

He shrugs. “What do you see happening?”

She drags her index finger around the rim of her water glass. “Well Duncan and Lilly would have been fine without us. Lilly had a string of other guys anyway and maybe Duncan would have started dating Meg sooner or something.”

“Is she still alive? Or does Aaron still kill her?”

“I don’t know. That’s the part that always changes for me. She’d still be friends with you. She’d still be over at your house, just maybe not as much. But for arguments sake, and to keep me alive, let’s say that he does.”

“We would have leaned on each other through her death instead of pushing each other away. It wouldn’t have affected me the way that it did if I had been with you.” He looks down at his lap, smoothing out the napkin across it. “Do you think we would have had a healthier relationship?”

“It’s hard to say.”

The waiter brings them their food and they start eating in silence. Logan aimlessly twirls his pasta around his fork until there’s too much of it to eat in one bite. He laughs at himself, using his knife to release the wad.

He looks up at her, pointing his fork with the much more manageable portion on it in her direction. “I would have taken your virginity.”

She smiles around the bite of food she just took, finishing chewing it before responding. “Oh no doubt.”

“You’d have taken mine too,” he says, before taking a bite of his pasta.

She nods, reaching for her water glass. “I also think we’d be different people. Our experiences shape us, right? The physical attraction was there sure, but isn’t it our joint brokenness that really brought us together?”

He nearly chokes on his water, coughing through his sudden outburst of laughter. “I almost hate to admit it, but I think you’re right.”

“We’re a special breed.”

“But for the record,” he starts, twirling more pasta around his fork. “You’re not broken.”

She gives him a small smile. “Neither are you.”

They finish their meals, Logan buys his bottle of wine, and they head back outside. He suggests they just aimlessly walk around for a bit and they can take a cab later to wherever they decide to go. She lets her fingers loosely tangle through his as they walk, feeling oddly at peace in their current silence. She likes having him here with her. Likes seeing him beyond the settings and constraints of Neptune.

She lets him lead even though he has no idea where he’s going. It amuses her to see where they’re going to end up, wondering what type of accidental adventure they’re going to end up on. He leads her right down 5th Avenue, past the Flatiron Building and into a shopping district.

“Need anything?” he asks as they pass by stores selling clothes and shoes and purses.

“Are you offering to be my sugar daddy?”

“You’re gonna waste that card on these brands?” he asks as they walk by a Nike store. “At least wait until we find Tiffany’s.”

“I don’t need you to buy me expensive gifts. You know I’ll just end up pawning them for the cash,” she jokes.

“Right, right I’ll just fashion you a necklace out of paper clips and call it good.”

“Now we’re talking!”

When they get to 19th Street, she feels the tug of Logan’s hand pull her to a stop in front of a storefront. She looks up and reads the sign above the door, groaning when she sees it’s Victoria’s Secret.

“Seriously, Logan? You’re still thinking about _Burlesque_ and that Nikki character, aren’t you?”

He gives her a sheepish little grin and shrug and she swears he almost looks embarrassed by it. Has she ever actually seen him embarrassed about anything before?

“Do you want to go in?” she asks him.

“Only if you want to.”

_So, that’s a yes, he wants to._

Veronica shakes her head as she leads him inside the store behind her.

“Something in particular you want me to look at?” she asks, shooting him a sideways glance.

“I – no. Whatever you like.”

She narrows her eyes at him, skimming her fingertips up his arm. “Logan, if I’m going to buy lingerie, it’s not going to be for my benefit.”

He visibly swallows as his gaze shifts from her to the store displays. “You know what I like.”

“I already told you, I’m not buying a brunette wig.”

“And I already told you, I like blondes.”

She shoots him another look wandering away from him. She’s never been into lingerie much. The one time she had considered buying it had ended with Madison ruining everything. After that, she’d never even wanted to look for it again. But the way Logan is looking at her now, as she trails her fingers over the satin and lace sets while keeping her eyes trained on him, sends a shiver right through her. She likes it. And she wants to do this for him just like she had planned to do years ago before everything came crashing down.

“This one?” she asks, pulling at one that’s all white lace on the front, and nothing but a couple of thin straps in the back.

He groans at the sight up of it, stepping closer to her.

“Or,” she starts, moving further down the rack. “They have it in black.”

He groans again, reaching out to feel the material. “Are you gonna model it for me?”

“Not here,” she says with a smirk. “But I will in the comfort of my own apartment. I’ll even throw in a slutty dance move or two.”

“God, I love you,” he says, the words coming out in a breathy laugh.

She freezes, the hanger of the black version clutched in her grasp. Did he just – was he – is he –

“You – what?” she asks.

Logan smiles at her. “Did you think I stopped?”

She hesitates. That last time they spoke on the phone before she left Neptune, he’d been pissed at her. Five years of radio silence without a call or text or hell, even a postcard. None of that told her he was still in love with her. But then again, the time they’d spent together in New York so far kind of did. “I – well – yeah?”

“Have you stopped?” he asks.

The pictures of them, framed and hidden in her closet. The salads made still catered to his preferences. The smell of his cologne enough to make her question her entire relationship with Piz.

“No,” she says softly. “I never stopped.”

It’s at that moment a sales associate comes to ask them if they need help finding anything or if they’d like her to get a fitting room started for them. Their voices are both thick with emotion when they simultaneously tell her that they’re fine. Veronica doesn’t miss the curious look she gives them as she continues on to tell them about their current promotions. When the sales associate leaves, Logan takes the hanger out of Veronica’s hand and spins the lingerie back and forth.

“Is this the one you want?” he asks.

“Logan –”

“We can keep looking too. We’ve got nothing but time.”

She needs him to stop for a second and focus on what just happened. She needs to tell him, needs to say it. She’s notorious for never saying the words back to him. Part trust issues, part guarded defense mechanism she supposes. And he’s just always known she means them back, always trusted that she loves him too even when she doesn’t say it as often. She thinks about one of the fights they’d had in college where he’d asked her if she loved him and she’d responded with a weak “yeah.” She doesn’t want to do that to him anymore. She wants him to know that she means it.

“I love you, too.”

The lingerie section of Victoria’s Secret was by far the weirdest place to have this conversation, but was it really any weirder than getting into fights on the Highline or in line at the Empire State Building? Expressing their emotions in very public settings had become their new normal. Definitely a big shift from waiting until they were alone in his room at The Neptune Grand.

He steps closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, the lingerie hitting the back of her leg. “Might I suggest making a selection so we can get the hell out of here?”

“Where are you taking me next?” she asks as though she doesn’t already know.

He leans in to whisper in her ear. “To bed.”

She visibly shivers, already tugging at the hanger in his hands. “This one. This one is good.”


	9. Chapter 9

_Silence, the train runs off its tracks_

_Kiss me, try to fix it_

The cab ride back to her apartment is excruciating. His wine bottle has been tucked into the sack with the lingerie which is now shoved on the floor between their feet. His hand had started off on her knee and has slowly been making its way up her leg. She’s not sure what he plans to do when he gets to her hip, but she really doesn’t need their cab driver to find out. His hand makes it there and he lets his knuckles graze against the zipper on her shorts, before slipping around to brush against the skin of her lower back. She shivers under his touch, already pressing herself into his movements.

They get stuck in a particularly large traffic jam with cars honking all over the place and pedestrians crossing right in front of the non-moving vehicles. Logan takes this opportunity to take one of her hands in his and trace maddeningly slow circles onto the back of her hand with his thumb. She locks eyes with him and his expression tells her this hand gesture is meant for elsewhere. 

She’s not going to make it. She’s going to climb on top of him in the backseat of this cab and –

“You’re squirming,” Logan whispers in her ear.

“It’s your fault.”

“I’m well aware.”

Veronica looks out the window, looking for the street signs, trying to gauge how long it would take them to walk or take the subway. They’re still too far. This would be faster if this traffic jam would just _move_.

He slips his hand under the hem of her shirt again, and she starts to think his constant need to be touching her is his own fidgeting technique. She doesn’t think this new lingerie will even be used today. At this rate, they’ll be on each other as soon her apartment door closes.

The cab driver takes his next opportunity to turn right and get out of the traffic jam and she releases a sigh of relief at just the sensation of moving again. Logan also seems to relax at her side with the movement, his hand leaving her lower back to reach for her hand again.

“How do you live like this?” he asks her.

“The traffic?” she asks back. “You live in D.C. I’ve heard the traffic is awful there.”

He shakes his head. “No, the tall buildings everywhere. Don’t you ever miss…I don’t know wide open spaces? Or the beach?”

She laughs at that. “I was never as into the beach as you were. But again I ask, what is D.C. offering you that supplies this?”

“There’s a law in D.C. that no building can be taller than the Washington Monument so you can see it from everywhere. It makes things feel less claustrophobic. And Virginia Beach is only three hours away.”

She snorts. “ _Only_ three hours.”

“There are some in Maryland and Northern Virginia that are closer, but I don’t like them as much.”

“I know what we’re doing tomorrow,” she tells him, squeezing his hand.

“Are we going beach hunting?”

She nods. “We’ll rent a Zipcar and I’ll take you upstate. There’s a beach not too far from here in Queens, but you might be more impressed with the Hamptons.”

“How far is that?”

“Two hours maybe?”

“A road trip to the beach to get out of the city? Your inner California girl is showing.”

“Who said she ever left?”

He hums, starting to rub his thumb over the back of her hand again. “Bring your camera?”

“You looking to be featured in my next photography exhibit?” she asks, trying not to focus too hard on the sensation his thumb against her skin sends through her.

“I’m your OG model,” he tells her.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

* * *

When they finally get back to her apartment, Logan hovers at her back while she digs through her purse for her keys. Of course, in this moment of all moments, they’ve become buried beneath everything else in her bag. His mouth is already at her neck, peppering kisses against her pulse point.

“Raincheck on the lingerie?” he breathes against her skin.

“Please,” she responds, finally locating her keys and fumbling with them against the lock. “I’m not waiting any longer for this.”

Just as she suspected, he’s on her as soon as the door closes. The wine and lingerie gently placed off to the side before he pins her against the door, tangling his fingers through hers over her head and capturing her mouth with his own. Her hips pitch into his, already seeking friction from him. It’s what she’s wanted from him since last night, hell it’s what she’s wanted from him since she smelled his cologne in the middle of the sidewalk last month.

One of her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to her. His mouth leaves hers to trail down over her jaw and neck. He finds that same spot on her neck where she long ago perfected the art of covering his hickeys with makeup. She finds herself wondering how long it’s been since she’s had one of those, when his hand snaking around her hip to grab her ass draws her focus back.

She grabs the back of his head to guide his mouth back to hers. She deepens the kiss as he presses her even more firmly against the door with his body. Her hips tilt into his again, causing her to moan a little at the feel of him.

“I thought you were taking me to bed,” she breathes against his neck. “Not to my front door.”

He draws her other leg around his waist as well, hoisting her up against him and carrying her back over to her bed.

“It’s a good thing you’re so tiny,” he teases.

“Enough with the height jokes,” she huffs.

He releases her down onto the bed, his hands already skimming down her sides toward the button and zipper on her shorts. He drags them off of her before reaching back up to help her take her t-shirt off over her head.

“Even the simple cotton stuff does it for me,” he tells her, appreciating her laying before him in her bra and underwear.

“Maybe it’s just _me_ that does it for you.”

“That too,” he agrees, pulling his own shirt off over his head.

Veronica releases an audible puff of breath. Those abs had not been there in high school. And as he strips down to his boxers she can’t help but notice the way they sit on his hips, the way every part of him seems to be infinitely chiseled and defined. Not that Logan had ever been unfit, but fuck this made him even hotter.

“I don’t know what you’ve been doing to work out lately, but it’s working.”

He laughs, hovering over her to place a kiss against her lips that doesn’t last nearly long enough for her liking.

“Like what you see?”

“Do I?” she asks, running a hand down his stomach and causing him to grunt the closer she gets to his waistband. “I could stare at this for days. You’re never allowed to wear a shirt again.”

He laughs again. “Restaurants might be opposed to this.”

“Oh you think we plan to leave this apartment?”

Logan grins, leaning in to kiss her again. He lingers against her lips longer this time, before moving his head to kiss his way down her body. He takes off her bra, chasing the fabric away with his lips. He trails his mouth down her stomach and she shivers when his lips meet the waistline of her underwear. He pulls them off too before settling his head between her legs.

_Fuck._

Logan brings his mouth over her hipbone, licking and sucking the skin there and up the length of her inner thigh. She nearly whimpers with her need for him to just _touch_ her where she needs it most. But he’s always taken pleasure in drawing hers out, always making sure every last nerve ending is on fire before he grants her any release. He’s an asshole, but she loves him, loves _this_ , anyway.

He chuckles against her skin, sensing her squirming need, and drags his index finger against her entrance, watching in amusement as her hips try to seek out his touch again.

“Damn it, Logan,” she curses as he just barely touches her again, his fingertips a featherlike brush against her. “Do something.”

He chuckles again, wrapping his hands around her inner thighs and spreading her wide for him. Logan laves his tongue over her sex slowly, once, twice, three times. He sucks at her clit until he has her mewling, going back to long strokes of his tongue that have him ending swirling around her clit. He starts flicking his tongue faster against her little bundle of nerves, drawing a string of curse words from her lips.

And then he draws his mouth away from her, sucking back on her inner thighs. Her hips twist and he hears the frustrated groan that tumbles out of her.

“I swear to god, Logan,” she grits out, propping herself up on her elbows to glare down at him.

He meets her eyes with that same shit-eating grin before finally complying and running his tongue back through her folds. She’s instantly moaning again, her fingers tightening around his short strands of hair as she lays back down on the bed. He starts giving his full attention to her clit, licking and sucking at it, pumping two fingers inside of her to add to the sensation. Veronica cries out, her thighs starting to shake around his head.

Logan continues his ministrations, coaxing the orgasm out of her. He feels the moment she shatters beneath him, her back arching as her body goes rigid under his touch, his name wrapped around a moan from her lips. His frantic movements turn back into gentle strokes of his tongue, lulling her until she comes down from her high.

“Fuck,” she curses, her index finger and thumb moving to rub at the shell of his ear.

“See? I told you, you make the same faces as your twin in that movie.”

“Shut up and come here.”

He tosses her another grin, moving to stand up and remove his boxers. She props herself up on her elbows again to look up at him. She crooks a finger at him, tossing him a shit-eating grin of her own. He returns the smile and she thinks briefly about how neither of them can stop smiling. They may have sucked at relationships in the past, but the sex had always been something they excelled at.

_If cuddling is the best part, he didn’t do it right._

Logan crawls on top of her and teases her with the tip of his arousal for a moment, before pushing himself all the way inside. They let out twin moans as he fills her. She’s missed the feel of him, the weight of him. She’s missed the way the scent of his cologne mingles with her senses as he gets her to fall apart around him. She’s missed _him_ , plain and simple.

He bends to kiss her again, tangling their fingers together above her head, as he finds a rhythm inside of her. Her hips start to move in time with his, matching him stroke for stroke. She wraps her legs around his waist and uses her weight to flip them so she’s on top. Veronica grins down at him, pinning his arms in the same fashion he had pinned hers. She starts twisting her hips around him, pulling a long moan from him.

She releases his arms and they instantly move to grope and knead at her ass. She shifts her weight so her breasts are pressed flat against him, her mouth seeking out the skin over his collarbone, sucking a path up to his neck.

Logan slides one of the hands off her ass and snakes it between them. He presses two fingers into her clit and she hisses, her hips trying to shift away at first, but eventually pressing against him, seeking the welcome added friction.

It’s not long after that, that she feels herself start to crumble around him again. He flips them so she’s back on her back, picking up the speed of his thrusts, watching as her eyes screw shut and her head twists into the pillow. She cries out as her second orgasm takes hold. Watching her back arch and her come for him a second time, does him in and soon he’s riding out his own orgasm as well.

Their breathing is labored as the final tremors of their orgasms dissipate. He eventually finds it in him to roll onto his back. They stare up at the ceiling together, still trying to get their breathing back to normal.

“Piz ever treat you like that?” Logan asks, and she can hear the smugness dripping from his tone.

“No. Did Allison?”

“No.”

She rolls her head on her pillow to look over at him. He’s still staring up at the ceiling, his hands clasped over his stomach. She’s wants to remember him forever like this, happy and sated, lying naked next to her.

She gets an idea and pushes herself up out of bed.

“Where are you going?” he asks, already trying to reach back for her.

“Not far,” she replies, digging around at her desk. She pulls out her camera. “Just looking for this.”

She comes back to him in bed, straddling his hips and looking back down at him through her lens.

“What are you doing?”

“Long distance, remember? Making my own personal collection of nudes to tide me over.”

She takes a picture of him looking up at her.

“You’re not even getting my best feature,” he says, lifting his hips up against her.

Veronica laughs and he rolls her off of him, to hover back over her.

“Is this how you want to remember me?”

She takes another picture that’s way too close to his face and looks more reminiscent of Dick’s camera work. She reaches up to kiss his jaw.

“Yes, exactly like this.”

He tries to take her camera from her and she tries to stretch it away out of his reach. Their joint laughter fills the room as they fight over the camera, taking accidental pictures of who knows what along the way. She finally gets it back from him and instructs him to lay back down like he was when she first got the idea to grab her camera.

“I thought you didn’t like posed photos,” he says.

“It’s a natural pose, Logan,” she tells him, trying to find the best angle to shoot it from. “You’re not staring at the camera and grinning.”

“You don’t like my smile?”

“Not what I said.”

She lines up the photo like she pictured it in her head and takes the shot before crawling back on top of him.

“Let me see that,” he says, taking her camera out of her hands without her putting up a fight this time. He flips back through the most recent images, stopping when the picture on the display is a couple running side by side down a boardwalk. “P.I. surveillance?”

She shoots him a confused look as she tilts the display so she can see the image. “I told you, I don’t do that stuff anymore.” She looks at the photo. “Oh this? Just me messing around. This is that beach in Queens, Rockaway Beach. Piz was meeting up with some friends from work and I tagged along to see if I could get any good shots in.”

“If this is just you messing around, I’m curious to see what you actually trying looks like,” he says, flipping through more of the images.

“I already showed you that. My exhibit, remember?”

“Right,” he nods. “Hard to forget. I know you told me briefly, but why did you stop the P.I. work? You were good at it.”

“Good at the small stuff, maybe. Cheating classmates, cyberbullies, lost pets.”

“You solved Lilly’s murder, and the bus crash, and the Hearst rapist case. You think any of that is small?”

“I _think_ I was in over my head and if I kept going down that route it was going to consume me and pull me down with it. I was drowning there at the end, you saw it. Getting out and going to Stanford was the only thing keeping my head above water. I’ve finally made it to dry land. I can’t go back.”

“What if I needed your help with something?” Logan asks.

“Do you?”

“No, but hypothetically.”

“Then I’ll refer you to my dad, the _actual_ P.I. in the family. But if you need a lawyer, I’m your girl. In one more year and after I pass the bar exam…”

“You really won’t go back, will you? Not even for me?”

She lets out a long sigh. “Okay fine. For you I _might_ be persuaded. But I’m not working anything that puts either of us in danger. I’m not going to be that person anymore, I won’t.”

Logan sits up on the bed with her, draping his arms around her waist. “I’m not asking you to.”

She nods, picking the camera up off the bed. By now, the sun is just starting to set in the sky. She focuses the lens on the building across the street and takes a picture of it silhouetted by the sun. She looks at the image and shrugs, putting the camera back down at her side.

“You do that often?” he asks, watching her.

She shrugs again. “Habit or hobby, who knows?”

He scoots closer to her on the bed, bending his head to place a kiss on her shoulder. “My life hasn’t been the same without you in it.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, reaching out to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know the feeling.”

“Don’t disappear on me again this time, okay?”

She winces at the implication behind his words. She knows she got distant on him emotionally before she moved and put physical miles between them. She knows now how much that hurt him. And as much as she doesn’t want to become P.I. Veronica again, she wants to become distant, closed off Veronica again even less.

“I won’t if you won’t.”

He takes one of her hands and places a kiss to her knuckles. “Deal.”


	10. Chapter 10

_Could you just try to listen?_

“What do you mean you’re driving?” Logan asks as she picks up the keys to the car they’ve rented for the day and twirls them around her index finger.

“Do you know how to get to the Hamptons from here?”

“Well I – no –”

“That’s why you’re not driving,” she says, opening the passenger side door for him.

“GPS exists for a reason, Veronica.”

“Much to my dismay you have a train to catch tonight and you got lost just walking around in Central Park last month. I’ve got this. I’ll get us there and back in plenty of time for you to leave me again.”

She means the last part as a joke. Yes, he’s leaving for D.C. again tonight, but she knows it’s in no way the end of things between them. The expression on his face tells her differently. He hears the phrase ‘leave me again’ and he must start thinking about their more recent arguments. But she’s the one who left him, so what’s with his sudden look of guilt?

“Hey,” she says softly, reaching up to touch his cheek and hip checking the car door so it’s not completely open anymore. “I know you’d stay if you could. Hell, I’d go with you if I could.”

“I knew saying goodbye was going to suck but –”

She shakes her head at him. “You’re not leaving yet. We still have hours together today. Don’t think about that yet.”

He nods, leaning in to give her a quick kiss before reopening the passenger door and sliding in. Since she claimed the control over driving, she lets him claim control over the music. They spend the first 30 minutes of the drive complaining about each other’s taste in music as he’ll change the radio station after a song she likes starts playing or he’ll leave it on one she absolutely cannot stand. He gives up flipping through the stations when he lands on one playing classical music and she shoots him a quick sideways glance before returning her focus to the road.

“This is your solution?” she asks him.

“This is me giving up.”

“So a little Bach is what surrender sounds like?”

“I don’t think this is Bach.”

“What do you know about classical music?”

“What do you?”

She sighs and they sit in silence for a couple of miles, listening to whatever string quartet is playing.

“You mentioned you told Mac and Wallace about us trying this again?” Logan asks, still staring out the window.

“Yeah. I called Mac right after we met up at the coffee shop looking for some advice woman to woman. And I told Wallace about us after you left after Fleet Week. He complains that I don’t keep him as updated on my life as I used to.”

“And they’re both concerned we’re going to end up hurting each other again?”

She nods. “The number of times the phrase ‘I know what he does to you’ has been tossed around to me in conversation these past two months…”

“They don’t know what I do to you.”

She snorts, hearing the innuendo in his voice. “Sexually? No. Break-up aftermath wise? Yeah, they do.”

“You let them see you break down like that?”

Of course he knows _exactly_ what he does to her.

“Not intentionally.”

He’s quiet again for a moment, starting to drum his fingers along the windowsill. “I mentioned to Dick that I was coming to see you this weekend.”

“Yeah? And what did my number one fan say about that?”

“He told me not to let you take my balls again this time.”

She huffs. “Of course he did.”

“He means well. He’s just trying to look out for me. He too knows what _you_ do to _me_.”

“Not sexually I hope.”

Logan laughs, reaching out to rub at the back of her neck. She feels some of the tension that had been building up in her shoulders with this conversation dissipate.

“What’d your dad say?” he asks.

She chews on her lower lip. “I haven’t mentioned it to him yet.”

“You haven’t?”

She can hear the surprise in his voice. And maybe a little hurt too. He knows how close she is with her dad. She guesses he thinks that she doesn’t deem this information worthy enough of sharing. But that’s not it at all.

“I wanted to wait until I was more sure of what this was before I told him,” Veronica explains. “If I have to fight for you, I wanted to make sure there was something here between us to fight for.”

“He still doesn’t like me, huh?”

“Can you blame him?” she asks with a small shrug. “He _knows_ we were sleeping together. You can’t sneak around easily with a P.I. for a father. He wasn’t too fond of the fact that I would use his overnight trips so we could have sleepovers at The Grand. And he knows you’ve hurt me, but I’m not entirely sure if he knows that I’ve hurt you. I’m just worried he’s still going to see that same kid who was always getting into trouble and not the man that you’ve become. So I’m waiting.”

“I haven’t proved myself to you yet?”

She takes one hand off the wheel to reach for his hand, which he slips off of her neck and into her outstretched fingers. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Logan. I know who you are.”

“And you love me anyway?”

“Not anyway,” she says, shaking her head. “I just do.”

He brings her hand up to his lips to place a kiss against her knuckles. She squeezes his hand, before releasing it to return her grip to the steering wheel.

“You know, I have enough money left in my family fortune that we could just hide out here in upstate New York away from everyone trying to pass judgement on us.”

“One weekend together and you’re already trying to get me to run away with you.”

“We have more than one weekend under our belts.”

That’s true. There’s so much more there. So very much. Years worth of fights and break-ups, love and make-ups.

“Taking things a little fast, aren’t we?” she teases. “Yesterday morning we weren’t even together and now you want us to shack up together away from the rest of the world.”

She strikes a nerve she didn’t mean to hit, but she can tell that she did by the grunt noise he makes. Maybe they aren’t ready to laugh about that yet. Maybe they _are_ moving too fast. They jumped from repairing the friendship to sleeping together again probably quicker than they should have. But she needed last night, she really fucking did.

“Are you okay with this?” she asks.

“With what?”

“The speed at which we’re taking things? Did we manage to repair the friendship or did we just say fuck it and skip back to the fun part? Because I’m sure you remember as well as I do that we used to use sex to avoid our problems.”

He fidgets with the radio dial as the signal goes out the further they get from the city. He picks up a classic rock station and leaves it at that with the volume low.

“We probably skipped some steps.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she sighs.

“Vee, I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as we made it sound last month. We’ve both said it, we’re not capable of being ‘just’ friends. We’re just too damn good at the fun part.”

She laughs at that before he continues with his response. “But the work we have to put into this isn’t going to just stop. It’s only going to get harder. Because we are both experts at saying the completely wrong thing and then not being able to let the other forget it. We’re both very passive aggressive about it.”

“Me? Passive aggressive?”

“Honestly, as much of an issue as you took with me saying we weren’t even together yesterday, I’m surprised I haven’t received more of a fight back for when I accidentally compared you to a drug last month.”

She’s quiet for a moment, the guitar solo from “Stairway to Heaven” filling the car. This is why they used to avoid talking about things. It was easier even if it was unhealthy. They’d file grievances away for later, trying to prevent the 180 shifts in moods. Always dancing around things, trying to keep it light. She knows they can’t keep doing that, but she wants to take back her accidental nerve strike so they don’t have to talk about this right now. More talk of running away together, less talk about their relationship issues.

“Maybe because the more I thought about that one there was some truth to it,” she says softly.

“Veronica –”

She shakes her head. “Don’t make me cry while I’m driving. I need to be able to see the road.”

She can’t do this right now. Physically can’t let him get her into this conversation.

“You’re not – you’re not bad for me, Veronica. If anything, you make me better.”

She shakes her head again. “No, I don’t.”

“Pull over.”

She does a double take in his direction. “Logan, we’re in the middle of the interstate, I’m not going to –”

“Pull over.”

She grumbles as she slows down, pulling onto the shoulder and fumbling around to find the button for the flashers.

“What?” she asks agitated, twisting to look over at him.

“When Lilly died –”

“Logan –”

He cuts her off, starting again. “When Lilly died, I was a wreck. And I took it out on you because you reminded me of her. But you never just sat there and took it, you always pushed back. And then my mom died and you were there for me. I’d been horrible to you and you still helped me when I asked. You held me in that lobby for 20 minutes when I thought I saw my mom, but it was just Trina. You didn’t have to do that for me. You’re a good person, Veronica. And all I’ve wanted since that day in the lobby was to be better for you.”

“Maybe that’s true, but you can’t say I don’t bring out the worst in you too. The number of times Dick of all people has yelled at me about it, I…Yes, we love each other. But we loved each other last time and it still didn’t work. What if love isn’t enough?”

She’s grateful he made her pull over for this because she feels the heaving in her chest. All of her doubt and insecurities spilling over as she speaks them into existence. She’s not good enough for him. He deserves better. As her tears start with a round of hiccupping sobs, Logan has his seatbelt off and is trying his hardest to wrap his arms around her with the center console in the way. He’s practically climbing over the console, nearly falling into her lap, and it nearly makes her cry harder at his need to comfort her.

He fists one hand through her hair as he tries his best from this angle to hold her against his chest. “It’s going to be enough,” he tells her. “We’ll make sure it’s enough.”

After it was Trina in the lobby. After the PCH’ers jumped him on the bridge.

After Cassidy on the roof. After her near attack in the parking garage.

The Highline. The middle of I-495 East.

They’ll hold each other for 20 minutes straight. They won’t pull away or try to look at the other person’s face or try to kiss each other. They’ll just wrap each other up in their arms and hold on tight without an ounce of selfishness to it.

She’ll do it for him. He’ll do it for her.

Eventually her breathing regulates and the tears stop. She reaches up to kiss his cheek, silently letting him know she’s okay and that he can sit back down on his side now. He takes the hint and untangles himself from around her, sliding back to the passenger side. He still reaches for her hand across the console, his renewed need to be constantly touching her.

“At least we weren’t in a public place this time,” she says softly, wiping at her eyes. “No fan club today.”

He squeezes her hand. “You matter to me. And whether you want to believe it or not, which you should because it’s true, you’ve had a positive impact on my life. You’re not solely responsible for my happiness, Veronica. Stop blaming yourself for things that happened in our past.”

That’s easy for him to say. He’s not the one who keeps losing his composure when a fissure of doubt cracks open. When did he get so cool-headed? 

“I don’t want to fuck this up this time. And I feel like I already have.”

He looks ready to crawl into her lap again. “13 years worth of stuff we’ve never talked about. That’s not fucking anything up, it’s finding the closure to move forward.”

“13 years?”

“We’ve known each other since we were 12,” he shrugs. “We weren’t discussing our fears and insecurities back then.”

She squeezes his hand back, her other hand scrubbing over her face.

“I’m the one who keeps messing up and saying stupid shit,” he continues. “I don’t know why you think you’re failing.”

“Because I feel like all I’ve done for the past five years is blame you for everything when I _know_ some of that blame belongs to me. And it’s like the more I accept that, the more I realize how much I’ve hurt you. And I’m scared, Logan. I’m afraid to lose this again now that we finally have it back. The thought of losing you again, I –” she trails off, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes once more.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, letting go of her hand to rub at the back of her neck again. “Well okay, I’m going back to D.C. later tonight. But right now, we’re going to the beach. I’m right here. I’m not running. And I know you’re not either.”

She appreciates his attempt to calm her down, but it’s not working. She’s not entirely sure how this verbal diarrhea started, but now she can’t seem to stop. When he’d asked her on Friday if there was more dirty laundry between them, she’d brushed it off with a surface level answer. But she was cutting deep now, and hoping this current conversation didn’t _completely_ ruin their beach day.

“I just feel like I’m trying so hard and it’s still not enough. _I’m_ not enough. And if we’re being honest about 13 years worth of insecurities here, I’ve always felt this way. That’s why I used to make those jokes about ‘all the other girls’ and the hookers. Because I was always afraid that I wasn’t enough for you. I wasn’t like Lilly. I’m still not.”

“Veronica…” he trails off staring at her like he wishes he could move that damn center console out of the way. Well he’s the one who wanted her to pull over and have this conversation. They could have waited until they got to the beach and they’d be console-free.

“I’m the one who’s not enough for you. _I’ve_ always felt that way.”

She nearly starts laughing, burying her face in her hands. “We may have just uncovered the source of all of our problems. Both of us thinking we’re not enough for each other.”

“See what happens when we share our feelings?”

She peers over at him through her hands and the gesture gets him to laugh. She drops her hands, a tiny smile spreading across her face.

“No, but come on seriously,” Logan starts. “A smart girl like you interested in a jackass kid like me? That was never going to work. I was never going to be enough for you.”

“You are though,” she tells him. “You are enough.”

“And you’re enough for me too.”

She expels a long sigh, flattening her palms against her thighs. “Have I completely ruined our happy-go-lucky beach day with all of my doubts?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Forward progress, Vee. That’s all it is.”

* * *

They spend the rest of the drive into the Hamptons with Logan trying to get her to laugh. He’s mostly successful with his dumbass jokes and stories, but some of them earn him a smack to the back of the head. But he gets her to relax, pulling her out of the funk she’d accidentally talked herself into. And she loves him a little more for that.

She finds a parking spot in town and Logan complains about having to walk all the way to the beach after all of the walking she makes him do in Manhattan.

“Parking at Cooper’s Beach is $50. I’m not paying that,” she tells him. “And neither are you.”

“Is beach parking that much everywhere up here?” he asks, almost amazed.

“No, but that’s why this beach is the best. Trust me.”

“The sand better be actual gold,” he mumbles, opening the trunk to pull out the beach bag she’d packed.

“Your inner California boy will be very satisfied I promise.”

“As satisfied as I was last night?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Public beach, bud. Not gonna happen.”

He huffs, faking disappointment as he follows her in the direction of the beach. The sizable beach front properties start to come into view the closer they get. She watches him appraise them. Watches as he inhales a deep breath, taking in the ocean breeze as he lets his eyes slip closed in the sun. He looks so at ease and she pulls out her camera and sneaks a picture of him when he’s not paying attention. You can take the boy out of California…

“Feeling more at home, ‘09er?” she asks. “Huge houses. Giant beach. Summer sun.”

“Think they need a Navy pilot out here?” he asks, slipping his sunglasses down over his eyes. “Much homier than D.C. And closer to you.”

“I mean the ocean’s right there,” she shrugs, pointing. “Go boy, go protect!”

She knows the look he shoots her even from behind his sunglasses. She grins, reaching for his hand and leading him the rest of the way to the beach. He continues to visibly relax at her side and for the first time in a long time it hits her how much she misses California. When he’d asked her yesterday if she missed wide open spaces living in New York, she’d laughed it off. She liked Manhattan, liked mostly that it wasn’t Neptune. But there’s something about being at a beach with him now that has her aching for home.

“You said home was still Neptune to you,” she starts. “But you live in D.C. right now. Did you buy The Grand or something?”

Logan laughs. “No, but I bought a house. It’s on the smaller side, one-bedroom, right along the beach. I try to use my leave to go home during peak surf season. You’ll have to come with me this year, if you can get away.”

“So right when classes start again,” she laughs. “Might have to take a raincheck for the following year.”

“Do you think you’ll stay out here after you graduate? In New York?”

“Hadn’t given it too much thought,” she shrugs. “I’ll go where they’ll hire me.” She pauses, looking up at him. “Or where you go.”

He squeezes her hand in response. “They relocate me a lot.”

“I’ll just make you keep paying for my bar exam until I’ve passed it in every state.”

“What if I’m overseas?”

“You’ve got a house,” she says, stretching up to kiss his cheek.

“You’d move back to Neptune?”

She shrugs. “I might. Given the right persuasion.”

He shoots her another look from behind his sunglasses, but one she can read just as easily.

“How’s this?” she asks, spreading her arms out at the spot they’ve stopped at on the beach.

He responds by pulling the beach towel out of her beach bag and spreading it out across the sand.

“You brought sunscreen, right?” he asks, still digging around in her bag. “I’m not letting you get burnt like last time.”

“So thoughtful,” she says, easily pulling out the sunscreen from the zipper pocket where she packed it. “Get my back?”

He laughs, taking the bottle from her and squeezing some of the lotion into his hand. He rubs it over her shoulders and under the straps of her tank top. He waits until she’s secured her hair into a small bun before getting her neck. She thanks him, taking the bottle back and applying the sunscreen to the rest of her. He sits down on the towel watching her complete her process before she kneels down beside him and hands him the bottle back.

She raises her eyebrows at him. “You want to be stuck in that uniform of yours with a sunburn tomorrow?”

He mutters something jokingly about her being a nag, but accepts the sunscreen and applies it where he can, before taking off his shirt and making her get his back. She makes a comment, mostly to herself, about how his abs should be for her eyes only, as she rubs the lotion into his skin. She does so a little more sexually than intended, his muscles rippling under her palms sending her thoughts back to last night.

“You gonna be okay back there?” Logan asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Not my fault you do this to me,” she says, sliding her hands down his chest over his pecs.

“I’ve always done this to you,” he says grabbing her wrists and pinning her against his back.

“Really? Always?”

He smiles as her chin comes to rest on his shoulder. “Do you remember the first time I made you come?”

She laughs, wriggling out of his grasp to sit beside him on the towel. “You were so damn proud of yourself.”

“Your first ever orgasm and I was barely touching you.”

“You’re obnoxious,” she says, flicking sand at him.

“You’re not still embarrassed by it, are you?” he asks, flicking sand back at her.

Veronica rolls her eyes. “Logan, with the number of times you’ve made me come since then, I’m not still hung up on the first one.”

“But you were for a while,” he reminds her, lowering his sunglasses to look at her.

“I think most of the embarrassment stems from your dad walking in on us with your hands up my shirt.”

“Better my dad than yours.”

She flicks more sand at him.

“Do you disagree?” he laughs. “Your moan was so loud you surprised yourself.”

“I’d never had an orgasm before that!” she huffs, shoving him. “Leave 17-year-old me alone.”

“17-year-old you didn’t want me to leave you alone that was part of the problem.”

“I stand by my previous statement that you’re obnoxious.”

“Still can’t believe that you dumped me for Duncan. As if he was capable of getting you as worked up as I was,” he pauses, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Am?”

“Maybe I just needed a break from the intensity of our relationship.”

“The last five-year break long enough for you? You won’t be needing another soon?”

She sighs, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I’m used to you now.”

“Thanks. I think.”

She turns her head to kiss his shoulder before settling against him again.

“I’m the still better choice though, right? If he hadn’t had to run off with his daughter into hiding to protect her from that batshit crazy family, would you have still come back to me?”

“More than likely.”

“You were bored with him, huh?” he asks, stretching his legs out into the sand.

“Let’s put it this way, he never got me to come when I let him get to second base.”

Logan smirks. “You’re just feeding my ego, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“It’s the truth!”

“Says Veronica Mars the sex addict.”

She shoves him so hard he falls sideways into the sand, laughter bubbling up out of his chest.

“Am I wrong?” he asks, propping himself back up on his elbows.

“Yes,” she says, reaching into her bag for her insulated water bottle.

“I’ll remember that the next time you’re begging.”

“I’m upgrading you to obnoxious asshole.”

“You love me.”

“For some stupid reason.”

He looks up at her with a pout.

“Okay fine,” she says, extending her hand to him to help him back up. “Maybe for some good reasons too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the lines from Waitress. I was just listening to the cast recording while writing this and they fit really well so in they stayed haha


	11. Chapter 11

_Hang up, give up_

_For the life of us we can’t get back_

They’re reluctant to head back to their rental car, knowing that even with their two hour drive back to the city, their time together for the weekend is coming to an end. She clings to his side as they walk, starting to feel heavy with the weight of the knowledge that they’re being forced back into long distance. She’s thinks about how much harder it will be this time now that they’re actually dating, now that she’s refamiliarized herself with all of his little touches. She thinks about asking him not to go, to take him up on his offer to hide away from their worlds up here together.

But he has to get back. She has to get back. And then he has to travel 227 miles away from her.

“Uh Veronica?”

She hums in response, looking up at him, still attached to his side.

“Where did you park the car?”

“Right –” she starts to point, but trails off when there is no car where she remembers leaving it. “I – shit.”

“Did we walk past it?” Logan asks, stepping away from her to look further down the block. She curses at how his departure from her side makes her feel so gutted when he’s only a few steps away.

“No, I swear it was right in front this – shit.”

“What is it?” he asks, walking back to her, one of his hands now resting on her lower back.

She points to the sign. The one stating a resident parking pass was required to park here and that all unauthorized vehicles would be towed.

“Shit,” he mumbles stepping away from her and digging out his phone. “I’m going to miss my train.”

“Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t see it when we pulled up.”

“Hey, it’s okay I didn’t see it either.” He’s still starting at his phone and she feels guilty for being happy about this turn of events, about getting more time with him they didn’t plan for while they figure this mess out. “You call the towing company on the sign and I’ll try to find another way back to D.C.”

She nods as he makes a call to Amtrak or his work or whoever. Veronica steps closer to the sign to read the number listed under “if your vehicle is towed call.” She curses again when she’s met with an automated message on the other line.

“All right, there’s another train they can get me on at 11. Won’t get into D.C. until after 2 AM, so Monday should be fun.”

Veronica shakes her head. “Call them back. You’re not going to make that.”

“Why not?” he asks, mid-pocketing his phone.

She winces. “The towing company is closed and will open tomorrow at 6 AM.”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Veronica.”

“I’m sorry.”

She feels awful, now she’s making him miss work. She tries calling the towing company again while he tries to fix his train situation. She gets the same automated message and she watches Logan as he grumbles and hangs up before making another call. She’d wanted a few more hours with him, not to mess up his entire week. While he continues to deal with that, she tries to find another rental car place out here that’s open or as a last resort, a hotel with an open room for the night.

He walks back over to her, his hand over the mouthpiece on the phone. “Think we can make it to JFK by 10 AM tomorrow?”

The towing company opens at 6:00, it’s a two hour drive back to the city, factor in traffic to JFK… “Yeah, I think that’s doable.”

He nods, stepping away to finish the call.

“Did you get a flight?” she asks, when he walks back over again, wondering what the cost difference between a last-minute flight and his original train ticket is.

“Not a commercial one. I lucked out, we’ve got a plane stopping over at JFK to refuel tomorrow. I’m friends with the pilot. He’s literally going to fly me to work.”

“Good, good, I’m glad it’s gonna work out.” She looks down at her feet, before looking back up to meet his gaze. “Logan, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” he starts, reaching out to rub her arm. “It’s okay. Shit happens. And now we’ve got a whole extra night together. What are you going to do about your work?”

“Guess I’ll call in sick,” she shrugs. “By the time I get you to the airport, there will be no point for me to go in unless I stay until 10 PM. I’m dedicated, but I’m not _that_ dedicated. Maybe I’ll tell them I can work from home and look over a couple more case files tomorrow afternoon.”

“And what are we doing about tonight?” he asks. “Sleeping on the beach?”

She laughs. “Well we might have to. The first hotel I called doesn’t have any openings and that was the closest one within walking distance.”

“Always an adventure with you, huh?”

“More than you bargained for, I guess.”

“Nah, we’ve been through worse,” he says, pulling his phone back out. “Here, I’ll help you call places. One of them has to have an opening.”

* * *

None of them do. It’s comical really, how much of a struggle it is to find one single place with even a twin bed available. But as their luck would have it there’s some type of conference in town, booking all of the available rooms in the area. They decide to just call a cab to take them to the towing company, so they’ll at least be there when it opens in the morning. There’s a seedy motel across the street and they snag the last room, which is barely a room, as the front desk clerk warns them it’s under construction. However, both of them are too tired to care.

The room has a single twin mattress on the floor, a small desk and TV stand covered with paint-spattered tarps, and the bathtub has no shower curtain. The walls smell like fresh paint and the small bathroom smells like bleach.

“Did someone get murdered in here?” Logan grimaces, almost not wanting to put her beach bag down on the floor.

“This should be illegal,” Veronica mutters. “This room isn’t suitable for guests.”

“Guess it is if you’re as desperate as we are,” he says, on the verge of laughter. “Sue ‘em, Lassie, sue ‘em!”

She looks at him helplessly. “I don’t think I even want to _sit_ on that mattress.”

He can’t hold back his laughter any longer, grasping at his side when he starts laughing so hard it hurts.

“I’m glad one of us thinks this is funny.”

He drapes his arms around her around waist. “Just pretend we’re on a stakeout for a case and you’re trying to get that money shot from the cheating bastard staying next door.”

“I really can’t believe this is my life right now.”

He laughs again moving over to the inspect the mattress. “If you want to sit, I’ll sit down and you can sit on me.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Come here.”

Logan sits on the edge of the mattress and she curls into his lap with a heavy sigh. “Should’ve just paid the $50 in beach parking.”

He kisses her temple. “But now we get to stay up all night talking.”

“Yeah? Where do you want to start? More of the good, the bad, or the ugly?”

His thumbs rub over her hipbones. “Any more skeletons in your closet you want to address? Anything that’s been bothering you for years that you need answers to?”

“Do you want to make me cry again?” she asks, only half joking. “I feel like we’ve seen enough of over-emotional Veronica today.”

She doesn’t think she can handle another big heart to heart. She needs these types of talks to be more spaced out from visit to visit or phone call to phone call. She’d promised him she’d put in the work, but hadn’t realized how much doing so would make her cry.

“If it’s gonna make you cry again, that means there’s still something there we’re not talking about. What is it?”

“Seriously? Here?”

At least if she loses it this time, that center console won’t be in his way.

“Come on, out with it,” he tells her, skimming his hands from her hips down to her thighs. “What else are we going to do until six in the morning?”

She exhales another long sigh, picking at her cuticles as she answers him. “Why didn’t you come to my goodbye party before I left for Stanford?”

“What, you want a better answer than the one I gave you that night when you called asking?”

She’s thinks about how her gut reaction to first seeing him during Fleet Week was to rehash that conversation in her head. How badly she wishes it had gone differently.

“I want something more substantial than the bullshit I got about not being able to be friends because the sex was too good.”

_And I can’t be your friend. Not with knowing the ways in which I can get you to moan. Not with knowing what each of those moans sound like and what they mean. Not with knowing what it’s like to love you and be loved by you._

“You made it pretty clear that you never wanted anything to do with me ever again. What do you think would have happened if I’d actually shown up? Were you going to forgive me for everything? Tell me you were wrong? Would you have ignored me all night? Or would you have yelled at me for being there after you’d told me to stay away from you? Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

“I didn’t want my last memory of you to be standing there bloody in the Hearst cafeteria after getting into a fight with that asshole.” Her voice shakes when she answers him, and she has to close her eyes and tell herself to breathe.

“What did you want it to be? My retreating back after you got another couple of verbal shots in?”

She shakes her head, making sure he’s looking her in the eyes this time. “I wanted to say goodbye to you. And to thank you…for everything. I wasn’t going to yell at you that night, Logan. I’d just wanted to give us actual closure.”

“Then I’m glad I didn’t show up,” he tells her, still keeping her gaze. “Since our attempt at closure this time ended up with us getting back together. There’s no way in hell that would have happened back then. We might have actually been done, done. And with closure comes the kind of acceptance that the other person isn’t just going to walk back into your life. I might have deleted you as an emergency contact. I might still be with Allison.”

“Is that why you still had me listed?” she asks softly. “So, there was potential for me to come back to you?”

“It worked, didn’t it? In it’s on own weird, round-about way.”

“So, you didn’t come and say goodbye because you didn’t want it to be the end? Even after everything…after all of the awful things I said to you?”

“Like I’ve said, you’re not an easy person to get over.”

She kisses him slowly, curling her fingers around the nape of his neck. When she breaks the kiss, she keeps her forehead pressed against his, still holding on to his neck.

“You’re a sap, Echolls.”

“Not ashamed of it,” he tells her. “Might even go as far as to say that I have you again because of it.”

She kisses him again.

“All right, your turn,” she says, leaning away from him.

“My turn for what?”

“Skeletons, ghosts, demons, whatcha got? What do you need to know or…say?”

“I don’t know if I have anything,” Logan shrugs.

“Seriously? Not one thing you want to yell at me for or ask me about?”

He shrugs again. “I know why you broke up with me…both times. And I can understand now why you did it. I know why you gave Duncan a second chance although I am a little confused about round two of Piz.”

“Right place, right time,” she says with a shrug of her own.

“I don’t know I – I guess I think about the night of our alterna-prom a lot. And the morning after. Especially the morning after. And the look on your face. How badly I –” he trails off, rubbing at the back of his neck, unable to look at her.

“They don’t write songs about the ones that are easy,” she says softly, borrowing something he said from that night.

He shakes his head. “I knew what I said to you that night. The thing about being epic and almost kissing you. But I was bitter, you know? Angry at myself for fucking up my relationship with the one person who ever really _saw_ me. And when you showed up and Kendall was there still naked in my bed, I played dumb and hungover. And then I saw that look on your face and knew I never wanted to be responsible for it again. But that wasn’t the last time I made you feel that way. Why do you keep giving me chances?”

“I don’t know. Insanity maybe? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Is it still insanity if you get the different result though? Maybe just – insert some inspirational quote here about not giving up on the people that you love.”

“You don’t call that fight we had back at Hearst giving up?”

She reaches for his hands, lacing her fingers through his.

“Logan, those pictures Dick took of us on the beach I showed you? They’re still in my closet. They were with me at Stanford. They were with me when I moved out here and even in with Piz. I mean come on, you know me better than that. I don’t give up. I’m stubborn as hell.”

He’s quiet for a moment, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “Am I the reason you have trust issues?”

She reels at his comment, wondering if this was how he felt earlier when she had a breakdown about her own insecurities in the rental car. How could he possibly think that of himself?

“God, Logan – no. Of course not, no. My mother is. The cases I’ve worked with my dad are. Not you.”

“Why did you trust me enough to get back together before that summer? My track record was plenty bleak at that point.”

Oh, they’re doing this. They’re really going to talk about _everything_.

“You saved my life, Logan. I needed help up on that roof and you were the first person that came to my mind to ask. I knew you would help me, and you did. Cassidy didn’t shoot me because you stopped him. I didn’t shoot Cassidy because you talked me down from it. When I thought my dad was dead you stayed with me all night. You held me while I cried for hours until I fell asleep. You were making me breakfast, trying to take care of me. You know as well as I do that we got back together that summer because we’d both realized that night that we were in love. You don’t do all of that for a person you’re indifferent to.”

He pulls her against his chest. She’s about ready to give up on her skepticism of the mattress and just lay down next to him instead of sitting curled up in his lap.

“And what makes you trust me now?” he asks.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“That. That right there makes me trust you.”

“But I loved you in the past and still –”

She shakes her head against his chest. “The past doesn’t matter right now. Things are different this time. _We’re_ different this time.”

He rubs at her back. “My offer to use my parents’ fortune and run away together still stands.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“But I’m trying to.”

“Save your fortune,” she tells him. “We’ll use it to go see Europe someday or something. Buy one of these gigantic beach houses out here and have homes on both coasts. I’m done re-examining our past. Right now, I only want to be concerned with our future.”

“We just started dating yesterday,” he says, teasingly. “And now you’ve got us with multiple homes and a big European vacation. What else do you see for us?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Probably a dog. I miss having one. And hell, maybe even that marriage or something we’re supposed to use to prove everyone wrong about us.”

“Now I _will_ get down on one knee for that.”

Veronica laughs. “You think you can convince me to marry you someday? When marriage scares the crap out of me because it hasn’t worked out for anyone I know?”

“Guess that’s where the ‘or something’ comes in. Guess we’ll see.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Yeah, guess we’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this whole story? About getting their car towed and not being able to get it back until the next morning and being stranded and ending up in an unfinished hotel room? It's a true story. Not mine, but someone I know. It was their first date and they stayed up all night talking. They're married now. I had to steal it.


	12. Chapter 12

_A beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad_

_Beautiful tragic_

_Beautiful tragic_

_Beautiful_

Logan falls asleep in the rental car on the drive back to Manhattan. She can’t blame him after their night of zero sleep. A double shot of espresso is about the only thing keeping her awake right now. But she wishes she could spend their last few hours together in person talking instead of her listening to the soft sounds of his gentle snoring. She has to nudge him awake when she pulls up to JFK.

“I’m awake,” he says, groggily, stretching his arms up over his head.

“Good, cause you have a plane to catch,” she says softly.

He straightens up in the passenger seat, adjusting to his surroundings for the first time. “We’re at the airport already? I slept the whole way here? Why didn’t you wake me?”

She reaches over to rub his arm. “You needed the sleep.”

“Veronica –”

“Call me tomorrow, when you’ve settled back in, okay? Unless you’re sick of me at this point.”

He tosses her a small smile. “Not a chance. I’ll call and update you on my travels home.”

“Good.”

He doesn’t make a move to get out of the car, nor does he look back over at her. All he does is stare straight ahead, fidgeting with the strap of his seatbelt.

“You’re going to miss your flight,” she says quietly, rubbing at his arm again. “You’ve already missed one opportunity to get out of here this weekend.”

He finally looks over to meet her gaze. “Life isn’t as much fun without you in it.”

“You looking to leave my life already?” she asks with a smirk. “I thought we were doing pretty good for once.”

He smiles. “I’ll let you know when we land.”

She nods. “You have to actually get on the plane first to do that.”

Logan leans across the stupid center console and kisses her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, toying with the shell of his ear. “Look me up the next time you’re in the city.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he backs away from her and finally opens the passenger side door. She pops the trunk so he can get his duffle bag out. He pokes his head back into the front of the car.

“Until next time, Bobcat.”

She smiles but shakes her head at the nickname. “Have a safe flight.”

He waves, closing the passenger door and heading inside the airport. She feels his absence instantly. _Fuck,_ she misses him already.

Fuck long distance.

* * *

They settle into a new routine to get them through the rest of June. He calls her every Tuesday night; she calls him every Friday. They talk about anything and everything: their co-workers, their commutes, the new restaurants they want to drag each other to. She loves letting the sound of his voice lull her to sleep on those evenings, but still wishes more than anything that he was next to her while she drifts off. So far, the long distance thing isn’t completely terrible. But it still sucks.

“I’m beginning to think you’re using me to avoid going out with your coworkers after work,” Logan tells her one Friday evening.

“I’m not avoiding _all_ of them. Just Drew.”

“Who’s Drew?”

“The law clerk who keeps hitting on me. He’s relentless. I will not be adding alcohol to that situation.”

“You worried you’ll cave and tell him yes if you’re drunk enough?” he teases.

“More concerned he’ll get gropey.”

“Well we can’t have that.”

“No, not at all. Do you have an issue with Fridays? Would you rather be out with the guys or doing whatever you crazy Navy kids do?”

“Nah, Friday is a typical date night. Gets those guys off my back about not going out with them too.”

“They’ve accepted our long distance relationship?” she asks.

“Yeah, but they probably think we’re having phone sex every week.”

“Wow, you’ve done it. You’ve met people with dirtier minds than you.”

Their fascination with the surface level day-to-day wears off after a while, and their conversations veer back to more serious topics, like about where they see their futures together. Sometimes she almost thinks they’re taking things too fast, that if they didn’t have all of their previous relationship attempts in the wings backing them up, these conversation topics would scare her. Other times she wishes they could move faster, or rather that time could, so she could stop being forced to live in a different state than him.

On a Tuesday he asks her about what she wants to do with her law degree. “So, where do you see yourself? Prosecution or defense?”

“Who said I was practicing criminal law?”

“It’s you, Veronica. Was anything else even an option?”

She laughs, always enamored will how well he knows her. “Prosecution.”

“Then why aren’t you interning at the DA’s office?”

“My internship is paid,” she tells him. “I’ve got to pay rent somehow.”

“Is it harder for you to relocate with a district attorney job?”

“I don’t know. Might just get stuck being an assistant district attorney for longer than I want. But I’m willing if it means I’m with you.”

“You don’t have to put your career on hold for me.”

“I’m not going to ask you to do that for me either.”

And then finally, _finally_ , it’s July and Logan is coming back to New York to spend the 4th of July with her. The 4th is on a Wednesday this year and he apparently also gets the 3rd off from work, so he’s taking a train in after work on Monday and leaving early on the 5th. Another whirlwind of a trip, but she’ll take what she can get.

Veronica puts the black lingerie on under her clothes before she leaves to meet him at Penn. She feels self-conscious about it the entire subway ride to the train station. She knows that no one else can see it or even knows that it’s there, but it’s not like she’s ever owned anything like this before. And the detour she had to take home to change after work now has her stressed out that she’s going to be late to meet him because of course the ACE line is running 15 minutes behind schedule today.

As she power walks the short distance from the subway exit across the street from Penn, she can feel the thin strap between her legs riding up in a very unpleasant manner. She can’t wait for Logan to take this thing off of her...for more reasons than one. She just makes it to the doors of the train station when she notices him already standing outside waiting for her.

“Logan!”

He looks up from his phone at either the sound of his name or the sound of her voice, hell maybe even both, and grins when he spots her in the crowd. She runs to him and he wraps her up in his arms the second she gets to him. She burrows into his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.

“I’ve missed you,” she hums.

“Likewise,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Phone calls can only do so much.”

She steps back from him, running her hands up his arms. “Have you been doing extra push-ups?”

“No more than usual,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she laughs. The movement causes the neckline of her t-shirt to shift, revealing some of the black lace hidden underneath. She doesn’t realize it at first, but she does the moment she catches Logan’s eyes widen. She smirks at him, tugging her neckline lower for him before readjusting it back into place.

“You didn’t tell me to wear something slutty this time, so I took it upon myself to do it anyway.”

He steps back toward her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “We can just order take-out to be delivered to your place later, right? I don’t have the patience for a restaurant right now.”

“I like the way you think,” she grins, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the curb. “Come on, a taxi will be quicker than the subway.”

* * *

There are no traffic jams holding them up today and she finds her keys from her purse on the first try. Logan trails in behind her, already unable to keep himself from touching her.

“You’ve rearranged your bedroom,” he mumbles against her neck as he presses himself against her back.

“You do weird things when you can’t get your mind off of a person.”

“There are some pretty normal things you can do to help with that instead.”

“Oh I did that too,” she tells him, pleasuring in the way she feels his cock jump at the thought. “Plenty.”

He groans, tugging on her shirt. “Need any help with that now that I’m here?”

She shrugs. “No, I think I like this room setup.”

“I wasn’t talking about the furniture.”

“Oh I’m well aware.”

She steps out of his grasp, delighting at the look of annoyance on his face. She takes off the layers of clothing covering the lingerie and grins as his eyes light up in response.

“It’s been a while since we’ve watched the movie, I’m not sure if I can remember her complicated choreography.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he asks stepping back toward her. “Good luck explaining that to the coroner.”

She laces her hands behind his neck as his hands slip under one of the thin straps at her back. “New York City doesn’t have a coroner. We have a medical examiner.”

“Your dirty talk has gotten weirder over the years.”

She laughs, pulling his head down to kiss him. He deepens the kiss immediately, his hands roaming over the nearly bare expanse of her back and ass.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she says against his lips. “Get on my level.”

“I’m not sure if they make lingerie for men. Do they?”

“Logan,” she grumbles, already trying to unbuckle his belt.

He laughs, helping her strip him down to his boxers. Satisfied at his lack of clothing she moves to kiss him again, letting her nails rake down his back. He guides them over to her bed, pausing when he catches a glimpse of himself and her glorious back side in the mirror on her dresser.

“Did you do that on purpose?” he asks.

“Get you out of your clothes?” she asks, confused. “Yeah, I have my reasons.”

“Not that. The mirror. It’s right at the foot of your bed.”

She looks over her shoulder. “Guess I didn’t notice.” She looks back at him, noticing the dark and mischievous look in his eyes. “What?”

“I want you to watch.”

“Watch what?”

He climbs on her bed, kneeling facing the mirror with his legs spread. He motions for her to join him. She crawls to him facing in his direction, but he guides her to turn around so her back is to him. And then she understands. He wants her to watch him touch her. The thought sends a shiver down her spine.

“First things first,” he says, bending to kiss her neck. “I need this fabric off of you.”

She holds his gaze in the mirror as he drags the lingerie off her. His hands skim down over her breasts and she thinks this is the most erotic thing they’ve ever done. She doesn’t know whether to watch his hands or his eyes, but he makes the choice for her when he turns his head to nip at her neck. His hands travel lower at an excruciating pace, taking their sweet time to brush over every inch of skin in their reach. Her hips roll against the bed with her need to be touched by him and his response is to cup her breasts in both hands.

“Not what I’m asking for here,” she grumbles.

“Oh no?” he asks, still paying most of his attention to her neck.

She’s going to have a damn hickey there tomorrow. She hopes she can remember the right combination of makeup she used to use to cover those up.

“Lower,” she tells him. “I need your hands lower.”

“Oh okay.” He drags his hands down her sides, moving to massage the outside of her hips. “Is this low enough?”

She hums. “Not quite.”

He stops his work on her neck, meeting her gaze in the mirror again. And that’s when she knows she’s in for it. His gaze is trained on hers as his left hand wraps around her torso and his right hand slips down between her legs. He brushes his knuckles against her and she mewls, trying to arch into his touch. Logan places a kiss to her temple, his way of silently telling her to watch.

So she does. She watches as his thumb presses into her clit, rubbing in a small circular motion. Watches as he slides two fingers inside of her and her back arches at the contact. Watches as his other hand slides up her torso to cup one of her breasts again, his right hand still brushing and twisting between her legs. He starts a pattern: dragging his index finger through her folds and then dragging her wetness up around her clit. He does it over and over again until her head falls back against his chest and she has to fight to keep her gaze focused on the mirror.

She never thought she’d be one to enjoy watching herself, but _fuck_ , watching his hand move in and out of her is totally and completely doing it for her. His mouth is at her neck again and the sensation of his lips against her skin while his hands feel like they’re all over her, do her in. She comes for him, her back arching, her hips grinding down against his palm. His name and a curse fall from her lips and then he’s turning her head to him so he can kiss her.

His kiss is slow and languid and so completely the opposite from the arousal still coursing through her body. She needs more. She turns in his arms, pressing herself against his chest, nearly humming into his mouth at the contact. Logan pulls back, grinning at the way she instantly pouts without his lips on her anymore.

“I like your decorating style,” he tells her, pushing an errant strand of hair out of her face. “Come do my place next?”

“I’m expensive,” she replies, lacing her hands behind his neck. “Think you can afford me?”

“Do you accept sex as a payment method?”

“This entire conversation makes me sound like an escort.”

He smirks. “Yeah it kind of does.”

She huffs but leans forward to kiss him again. Never enough of him. It’s like they’re 17 again making out in bathrooms and cars and on couches and she never wants it to stop. Too much time to make up for without having him here with her like this. But never the one to resist a quip response, especially not to him, she pulls away to tell him, “My lawyer will hear about this.”

“Can you serve as your own lawyer?”

“If I wanted to.”

He kisses her again, before she turns her head to look back at their reflection in the mirror. She looks back at him running a finger along his jawline. “We’re not finished.”

“Are you getting kinky on me, Mars?” he smirks at the way she keeps watching him through the mirror.

“Maybe a little,” she shrugs. “Maybe it turns me on to think about you watching yourself take me.”

He groans, skimming a hand down her back. “Well if it pleases you, I’ll do it.”

“Such a big sacrifice you’re making,” she says, slipping just out of his grip. “Where do you want me?”

He grins, almost devilishly, tracing his fingers against her ankle. “Well for starters, I’ll take you on your back.”

* * *

He does, in fact, take her over and over again until her body still feels like it’s thrumming even without his touch. She thinks that his ability to watch them only spurred him on further. And she is 100% not complaining.

Now they’re sitting in her bed half naked, him only in his boxers, her only in his t-shirt, eating the Thai food they ordered from down the street. She picks at his food more than her own until he finally gives in and switches take out boxes with her. Not her fault she likes his order better.

“I could get used to this,” Logan sighs.

“Me stealing your food?” she asks with her mouth full.

He laughs, giving her a gentle shove. “No, just… _this_. Eating takeout half naked in bed with you after sex. Waking up next to you. Living with you.”

“I’m afraid we’ve got at least another year before that last part can happen. Unless you can get yourself stationed in New York.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

She gives him a small smile, spearing a bite of the food she’d abandoned in favor of his.

“Will you make up your mind?” he laughs.

“Both, I want them both.”

They finish eating and Veronica moves to toss out the takeout containers in the kitchen, noticing as Logan starts to dig around in his duffle bag.

“If you want your shirt back, I can put on something that’s actually mine,” she tells him.

“No, keep it, I’m looking for something else.”

“Did you bring me a present?” she asks, crawling back onto the bed and looking over his shoulder as he digs.

“Actually yeah.”

“Is it a pony?”

He shoots her a look before depositing a chain of paper clips into her lap. “Paperclip necklace as requested. I hope it fits.”

She bursts out laughing holding the chain up against her neck. “God, imagine me walking into the office with this on.”

“Start the trend now before it’s all over the runway during New York Fashion Week.”

She unhooks two of the paper clips and tries to fit it around her neck. “Yeah I think you’re going to need to add some more,” she tells him when the two ends don’t reconnect.

“Oh, too small? In that case, try this.”

He places a small jewelry box in front of her. She freezes, letting the paperclips slip from her hand as she looks from him to the box and back.

“Just open it,” he tells her.

She opens the lid slowly, revealing a simple silver chain with a small silver circle with two gemstones set inside. She recognizes one of the gemstones as her birthstone and assumes the other one is his. She doesn’t actually know which birthstones belong to other months besides her own.

“Logan –”

“I noticed you don’t wear Lilly’s necklace anymore. Thought maybe you could use a new one. It’s not Tiffany’s though so don’t go and try to pawn it.”

She pulls the necklace out of the box and watches as the stones glitter in the last remnants of the sunlight pouring in through the window near her bed. She moves to put it around her neck and Logan reaches over to help her secure the clasp while she holds her hair up out of the way. The chain settles against her chest and she places her hand over it, meeting his gaze.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “My birthday isn’t for another month, you didn’t have to –”

“I know when your birthday is,” he tells her. “But I didn’t want to wait. I was worried you’d forget about the paper clip necklace joke by then.”

“What made you get this one?” she asks.

“Well, I know you like to keep your jewelry simple. And I know it’s not generally something you change with every outfit. You like pieces that have meaning, like the necklace Lilly gave you. I was hoping maybe you’d find meaning in this one.”

Her hand tightens around the circle and she aimlessly drags it back and forth along the chain.

“The clasp broke. On Lilly’s necklace. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed for about a year now, but I just haven’t. It’s not that she means less to me or anything now, but I guess maybe a part of me is trying to move on from all of that by putting it off. And now I have this. I’d rather keep you close these days anyway.”

He gives her a small smile, reaching to take her hands in his. “There’s something else I have to tell you and I don’t think you’re going to like it much.”

She squeezes his hands as the worry starts to form in the pit of her stomach. “What is it?”

Logan takes a deep breath, struggling to keep eye contact with her. “I’m getting deployed overseas in two weeks. I’ll be gone for six months.”

She feels her world bottom out around her. She’s barely been keeping it together seeing him in person once a month and now she’s expected to go six months without him? How is she supposed to do this? How are _they_ supposed to do this?

“No,” she says quietly, shaking her head. “No.”

“It’s my job, Veronica. I don’t want to leave you for that long either.”

“Then don’t.”

“Vee –”

She inhales a shaky breath looking down at their clasped hands and then back up at him. “No, no I know you can’t. AWOL status and all that. But I – we were just getting somewhere with this. Somewhere _good_.”

“I’m not ending this, not even close. We waited five years to find our way back to each other we can wait 180 days. You’ll be busy with school anyway. You don’t need the added distraction.”

“The distraction of worrying about you while you’re gone isn’t going to be much better.”

Logan pulls her against his chest. “I know.” He kisses the crown of her head. “I know.”

“I hate your job.”

Who does she have to bargain with for more time with him? What does she have to do to get those five years of distance back?

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m starting to hate it too.” 

“Is there – is there cell phone reception where you’re going? Internet? Do I have to go buy stamps?”

His hands rest on the small of her back, thumbs brushing at the exposed skin where the shirt has ridden up. “No cell reception, but there’s internet. We can e-mail, video chat when we both have downtime at the same time.”

“Things just got good,” she mumbles against his skin.

How do you park a Naval ship in a tow away zone? What about his plane?

“This isn’t the end, Veronica. I promise you that.”

“You’re going to miss my birthday.”

It’s stupid and insignificant and means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. But she’d wanted him there. She’d wanted to take him out with her law school friends and Mac and Wallace, assuming they upheld their promise to fly out and visit that weekend. She’d wanted them all together, one last big hurrah before law school took back over her life, followed closely by some new big lawyer job taking over her life. But the Navy had other plans.

“I’ll make sure I make time to Skype you that weekend,” Logan tells her.

“It’s not,” she starts, her fingers fidgeting with the hemline on his boxers. “It’s not about the birthday. It’s just…I was starting to see us with a life together.”

He guides her gaze up to meet his with a hand under her chin. “We can still have that life.”

“In six months, what, they move you back to D.C.? Station you somewhere else? The opposite coast?”

“After the six months, I’ll be on leave. Normally I’d go back to Neptune for a while, but I’m thinking New York sounds like a better option this time around. If you’ll have me.”

“Logan –”

She’s going to start crying. Again. Not because of Madison or Allison or any of her doubts and insecurities. Not because of something that happened five years ago or seven years ago. Just because she loves him. And she doesn’t want him to leave.

“You’ll always have a place with me, okay?” she tells him. “You’ll always have a home.”

“Home is where the Veronica is?”

He earns himself the smile he was trying to get from her as she snuggles back in against his chest. “Yes, exactly.”

“Spanning years and continents, huh?”

Another twitch of her lips. “Let’s leave it at that, shall we? I don’t actually want lives ruined or bloodshed.”

“I can’t believe you remember exactly what I said that night.”

“Our story is epic, Logan. Of course I remember.” 


	13. Chapter 13

_What we had a beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

Veronica stands in her bathroom staring at her reflection in the mirror. There is, in fact, a hickey on her neck from the reunion sex last night. Logan’s necklace hangs against her chest, a welcome sight after not having her regular necklace from Lilly on for so long now. Her hair is matted to her head in odd places from sleep and is in desperate need of, at the very least, some dry shampoo. And her eyes are rimmed red from crying because she hasn’t been able to stop.

_Remember two months ago when you thought you were indifferent to him and none of this would have affected you? See what happens when you let someone back in and fall in love with them all over again?_

She splashes cool water on her face trying to tell herself to keep it together. These are their last few days together for six months and she doesn’t want to spend them crying and feeling sad. But she can’t forget that he’s leaving. She can’t forget that he’s not simply returning to D.C. just over 200 miles away from her. She can’t forget that he’s in the Navy and headed for a war zone where any number of things could go terribly, terribly wrong.

She doesn’t want to do life without him again. She’s not sure if she knows how.

“Veronica?” she hears him gently knocking on the bathroom door and realizes she’s been in here a while doing nothing but letting her anxiety eat away at her.

“I’m fine,” she tells him, opening the door, but not meeting his gaze.

“I don’t believe you,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe.

“All right, I’m _trying_ to be fine.” She draws her eyes up to meet his.

“I’m not expecting you to be. _I’m_ not fine.”

“Have you been deployed before?”

He nods. “This isn’t the first time. Just the first time it’s hurt this much to leave.”

“I can beat an AWOL rap,” she offers quietly.

Logan smiles, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her waist. “Finish earning your law degree first, huh? Pass the bar.”

“I know people,” she huffs. “I work for a bunch of defense attorneys.”

“Don’t go owing them any favors. Might come back to bite you in the ass when you’re taking them down in court.”

She sighs, falling forward against his chest. “Six months is a long time.”

“Five years was longer.”

She hadn’t needed him then like she feels she needs him now. She spent that time trying to convince herself that she’d made the right decision in cutting him out. But she’d been wrong about everything.

“You said if you could take back anything, you’d take back the night you slept with Madison,” she says slowly.

“Yeah and I meant it. Although there’s plenty of other stupid shit I did back in my teen years I wish I could take back too.”

“Ever since you said that, I’ve been thinking. What would I take back? What one thing would I change if I could?”

“And what did you come up with?”

“I can’t decide,” she sighs. “I want to say something like taking you back after you punched that guy out for me in the Hearst cafeteria or never breaking up with you that year in the first place. But would I have left you to go to Stanford if that happened? Would I have made it out here to Columbia? Long distance now is one thing, but at 20?”

“You remember that Stanford is still in California, right?”

“Yes, smartass,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But the distance between Stanford and Neptune is about 200 miles greater than the distance between New York and D.C. It’s a big state.”

“So, what? You think us staying together wouldn’t have morphed us into the semi-adults we’ve become?”

“Would you have still joined the Navy? Would the pull have still been there? And it’s not like this lawyer thing was always the dream, you know? It’s not like I ever sat around watching _Law & Order _reruns thinking, ‘I could do that.’ It just sort of fell into my lap.”

“How does an Ivy League law degree just fall into anyone’s lap? Are you sure you’re not actually an ‘09er?”

“Logan –”

“I didn’t know what I was doing with my life back then, Veronica. I didn’t have any big aspirations in life. I was a business major with the rest of the family money ‘09er crowd. Except they were all poised to go into their respective family businesses, but what was mine? Nobody in their right mind would pay me to act in a movie. And what the hell was I going to do with a business degree? I might have ended up here anyway, just maybe for different reasons.”

“So, would us staying together back then have given us more time together? Or would it have torn us apart to some unfixable degree causing us not to be here right now with each other?”

“I can’t know that. No one can.”

“I just want to fix this,” she says softly.

“It _is_ fixed. You have me, Veronica. I’m yours.”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I’m not leaving _you_. Just the country. And it’s for work. I’ll be back.”

“Logically I know that. But I’m on summer break and you know what they say about kids when they’ve been out of school for so long…”

Logan kisses her forehead. “Just be here with me these next few days, okay? Show me more of your New York.”

“What happens if you miss your flight?”

“That’s why I gave myself a couple of extra day buffer days to get back to D.C. Just in case we encountered more of those pesky tow away zones.”

She sighs, placing a kiss to his neck before stepping out of his arms. “Okay fine. I have an idea.”

“Does it involve food?”

“No, but we can get some on the way.”

* * *

“You’re not still trying to take me to Madison Square Garden are you?” Logan asks, following her up the steps from the subway.

“The number of times we’ve been in that area when you’re here and you still don’t recognize what it looks like? We’re nowhere near there.”

“They all look like buildings, Veronica. You expect me to be able to tell the difference? I’m not the former detective here.”

“I’ve never been a detective.”

“You know what I meant.”

She shakes her head, coming to a stop in front of a storefront with a large red awning. “We’re here.”

Logan reads the sign on the storefront. “A bookstore?”

She shakes her head again. “Not just any bookstore.”

“Yeah, I see that. ‘18 miles of books.’ You trying to recreate our Hearst Library shenanigans and are too afraid to try it at the New York Public Library?”

“No,” she says rolling her eyes. “I’m here to pick something up they have on hold for me.”

“Out here running your errands might be taking ‘your New York’ a little too seriously don’t you think?”

She smacks his arm. “It’s not for me. It’s for you.”

“You bought me a book?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present, but seeing as how you won’t be home for Christmas, you’re getting it now.”

“Again I ask, you bought me a book?”

She sighs, dragging him inside the Strand Bookstore. “They specialize in rare books and collectibles. And so, I got this idea that they might be able to help me track down something I’ve been trying to find for a while.”

“I’m still waiting for this to make sense.”

They get in line at the customer service desk.

“Do you remember that night during the summer before college started when we stayed up all night talking when my dad was out of town? And we got on the topic of random stuff we missed about our moms?”

It takes him a moment to respond, almost as though he’s physically sorting through memories to try and find that night. “Yeah, I do. You said something about how you missed the smell of her perfume, but you tried wearing it once and it almost made you sick.”

She nods as the line moves forward. “You told me about this book Lynn used to read you. And you could remember the plot and the way she gave the characters different voices when she read it, but you couldn’t remember the name and it was nowhere to be found in your house. Even before the fire.”

She watches the recognition in his eyes, the way the memory takes hold.

“The one about the thief,” he says quietly. “Trina always tried to tell me I was thinking of _Aladdin_ or _The Book Thief,_ but I know it was something else.”

“And you were right. It is.” The line moves forward again. “I spent months trying to track down the title from your description of it. I finally found it around the same time we broke up. I called a bunch of bookstores back then anyway, figuring I’d gotten that far with it, but no one carried it. As it turns out, it’s a pretty rare book. There were only 250 copies printed.”

They’re next up at the service desk and Veronica gives the associate her name, telling him she has a book here on hold. He disappears and returns a few minutes later with the book in hand. She thanks him before turning to Logan to hand him the book.

“This is it,” she tells him. “I’m sure of it.”

Logan runs his hand over the cover, his index finger tracing the embossed letters of the title. He flips it open to the title page, reading a handwritten message from the previous owner: _To my little prince, adventure awaits_. He turns the page, skimming over the beginning of the story before flipping to the last page to read the end.

“So?” Veronica prods, poking his arm. “Did P.I. Veronica do it again? Was I right?”

He nods slowly, closing the book and admiring the back cover. “How did you find this?”

She smiles. “Mars Investigations at your service. Merry Christmas. Happy 4th.”

“I can’t believe you spent six years looking for this. I can’t believe you found it. I was beginning to think my recollection of this book was just a fever dream.”

“It’s real. Which means the memory of your mom is too.”

“Thank you,” he tells her, pulling her in for a hug. “I don’t even – thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He pulls back to look down at the book again, flipping through it and reading random passages. She watches the grin that spreads across his face, the way his eyes get glossy with tears at the memory. She likes knowing that his childhood hadn’t been all bad; that there are still memories from back then that are actually capable of bringing him joy.

He closes the book and looks up at her again. “You’ve been looking for this since you were 19?”

“18 actually. I started before my birthday.”

“Why did you go through all of this trouble for me? Especially if we broke up and you still spent time trying to track it down. You didn’t have to do that.”

She reaches out and squeezes his arm. “After your mom died, you came to me asking for help. And I couldn’t do anything. So, when you told me about this book, I decided I wanted to find it for you. That maybe it could serve as some type of closure between you and your mom. Just because we broke up, doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you. I spent years going into every used bookstore I came across hoping to find it. I know I should have just told you the title, but for whatever reason, I wanted to be the one to find it for you. Felt like I owed you at least that much.”

He places a hand over hers on his arm. “What were you going to do if you found it when we weren’t together? How were you going to get it to me?”

She shrugs. “Figured I’d cross that bridge when I got there. I never deleted your phone number from my phone.”

Logan shakes his head, letting go of her hand to thumb through the book again. “Want to read it tonight?”

“Only if you give all the characters their own voices.”

He laughs, guiding them toward the cash registers. She plucks the book back out of his hands.

“I’m buying, remember?” she asks. “This is your present.”

“Vee, if it’s that rare then it has to be –”

“I don’t care. I’ve been trying to buy this book for you for six years, you’re not going to stop me now.”

He slides an arm around her waist, kissing her temple. “I love you too.”

She hears the ‘too’ in his statement. Knows he put it there because this whole thing is showing him how much she loves him, how much she always has.

“I forget sometimes about your attention to detail powers,” he tells her. “And that you don’t just use them for cases. You still know that I hate red peppers and where all of my scars are and you remembered this completely random thing I told you about my mom at 3 AM one night when we were 18. You really are incredible, you know that?”

She feels the blush on her cheeks even as she answers him with a quip. “Don’t you go forgetting that during our six months apart.”

“I could never.”

She gives him a small smile, before turning to the cashier to pay. Veronica hands Logan back his book and he tucks it under one arm while reaching for her hand with his free one.

“I know we just ate but there’s a Max Brenner a couple blocks from here if you wanted something sweet,” she says as they step back outside.

“Is that the chocolate place?” he asks.

She nods.

“Lead the way.”

* * *

They’re seated around a pot of melted chocolate and assorted fruits to dip into it. Veronica’s attempting to extract a strawberry from the chocolate fondue without it dripping all over the table when she notices the pensive look on Logan’s face.

“Is watching me eat really that fascinating?” she asks.

He aimlessly twirls his skewer around in the chocolate sans fruit. “Can I ask you a question?”

She hums around her mouthful of fruit and chocolate, wondering where he’s going with this. She thought they finished airing out their dirty laundry, that they were in this, warts and all. What could he possibly have left to bring up? Unless it’s a question about their future…

“Aren’t we passed the point where you have to ask?”

He gets quiet again, taking his skewer out of the pot and stabbing a banana slice with it. “That day back in high school when I thought my mom might be alive and staying at that hotel, but it was only Trina? And I told her that our dad could use her right now and she said whatever it was about me suddenly being concerned about his wellbeing when before it was all accusations of cigarette burns and broken noses. You were standing right there, you heard all of that. But you never asked me about it. Even about a year or so later when we were in bed together and you could see all of them you didn’t say anything. I was the one who eventually brought it up.”

“I don’t necessarily hear the question in there, but it wasn’t mine to ask about. I always figured that if you wanted to tell me, you would. I was just going to keep waiting until you were ready.”

Logan sighs before popping the banana slice into his mouth and looking back over at his book sitting on the table.

“This book…the first time she read it to me was after the first time he hit me. I dropped a water glass and it shattered all over the kitchen floor. I was seven. She always wanted so badly to make things right, but she didn’t know how. She was afraid of him. And knowing what I know now, that he was capable of murder, I don’t blame her. And I don’t think I told you this, but this book was like our safe place together. It means more to me than you know.”

Veronica reaches across the table for his hand. “I hate him. For what he did to you. For what he did to Lilly. And I hate that you thought you were seeing him in you. Like I told you during Fleet Week, you’re nothing like him. You would never hit me or anyone else that you cared about. You’re a good man, Logan. Aaron was not.”

He sighs again, spearing a slice of pineapple to dip into the chocolate. “I guess my question is, what did you think when Trina said all of that stuff? About me making up stories of abuse?”

“I knew it wasn’t made up. If a kid’s going to cry wolf about something, cigarette burns aren’t going to be it.”

“So, I’m not crazy in thinking you developed a bit of a soft spot for me after that?”

She laughs, picking up another strawberry. “Yeah I guess you could say that.”

“You made sure I got home from the dance okay that night. You called Trina, kept your cop boyfriend off my underage, publicly intoxicated back.”

“Deputy Leo,” she laughs again. “My, my, my I wonder what he’s up to these days.”

“Works for the San Diego PD last I heard.”

“Do you keep tabs on all of my exes?”

He laughs this time, licking chocolate right off his skewer. “Just trying to gauge any potential threats.”

“Hey, the insecurity thing is my thing. You’re supposed to know that if you have me, you have me. Which you do.”

Logan gives her a small smile. “Can I ask you something else?”

“You don’t need to keep asking for permission but yes.”

“When was the first time you knew that you were in love with me? I told you the moment I felt it, in my car right before the PCH’ers attacked us. And I seem to remember you responding with your self-defense mechanism to deflect compliments with quips.”

“That’s when you knew? When you had your tongue in my mouth and your hand on my thigh?”

“All right, all right, so maybe I knew before that. I knew when you stood by me throughout the trial that summer. When you were there when things first got tough. Hell, I felt something when you were cleaning the cuts on my face with my head in your lap on your couch. But I asked _you_ this question.”

Can she pinpoint the exact moment? Is she capable of narrowing it down to a single place and time?

“I don’t know if there was an exact moment for me. When you said it that night, I felt it. But you’re right, I deflected. It’s like one day I just woke up and knew I needed you in my life. You have a way of anchoring me, you know that? You always have.”

“That won’t change,” he tells her. “No matter how far away they send me.”

“Good,” she nods, rolling her skewer along the edge of the plate. “Because me needing you in my life isn’t going to change either.”

* * *

Logan reads her the story. He shares with her this part of him that used to only be reserved for one other person. But he lets her into that space and she welcomes his trust with open arms.

She’s nearly asleep at his side, the soothing sound of his voice nudging her to drift off, when a stray thought passes through her subconscious she can’t force to go away.

“Do you think my mom is still alive?” she asks softly.

Logan moves the book, that he’s now finished, to her bedside table and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know.”

“I’d like to think if she managed to get her drinking under control, she would have reached out to me. But that radio silence is worse than ours was. So either she’s too embarrassed to try and find me after everything, or she’s still out there struggling somewhere. If it hasn’t killed her already.”

He holds her a little closer. “You haven’t used your superpowers to try and find her again?”

Veronica shakes her head. “If she wanted to be found, I wouldn’t have to go looking. I just wonder if there’s anyone in her life now who would know to tell me if something happened. Do I even exist to her anymore?”

“I wish there was something I could say that would make things better. But I know this is hard. I know that it sucks. Wanting and needing answers, but also realizing those answers could make everything worse. Does your dad know anything?”

“If he does, he hasn’t said anything. But even at 25, he’s still trying to protect me.”

“Because he’s a good father.”

“I know. I’d be lost without him.” She pauses, tilting her head up to look at him. “And I’d be lost without you.”

He kisses her. “I promise I’m never going to abandon you. Wherever this job takes me, I’ll always come back. You’ll always exist to me.”

She curls back down against his side. “And you’ll always have a home with me.”


	14. Chapter 14

_What we had a beautiful magic love there_

_What a sad beautiful tragic love affair_

She wakes up before he does again, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as the sunlight starts to pour in through the curtains. She wishes, not for the first time, that she could keep him here forever like this. Bathed in the golden glow of summer sun, warm and curled up in her bed. She realizes then that all of their best memories are wrapped up in summer days. The summer between junior year and senior year before the violence with the PCH’ers got too out of hand. The summer between senior year and Hearst when they found their rhythm again before everything went to hell that winter. _This_ summer.

Even in their young teen years, summer pool parties with the Kanes brought back some of her fondest memories.

It makes her wonder how they’ll fair this time around as the seasons change, especially with him being so far away. The idea of him being with her here today, celebrating a holiday, had her envisioning them spending other holidays together. Ones that come around in the colder months that they still won’t get to experience together this year. She’s been stuck in the city for Thanksgiving the past couple of years, with the holiday falling too close to the end of the semester stretch and her not being able to afford a flight home both for it _and_ Christmas. She’s spent the last few at Friendsgiving with various friends from her law classes. But she’d thought maybe she could drag him along to one this year or screw the whole thing and join him for a weekend in D.C. alone together.

And _Christmas_. She’d had such big plans for Christmas. She was going to get him to join her Neptune Christmas with her dad. She was going to give him that book she gave him yesterday and force him to watch all the cheesy classic Christmas movies with her dad while they ate Chinese takeout straight out of the cartons. She was going to make him feel like part of a family again, part of _her_ family. And they’d go out with Wallace, and potentially his new girlfriend Shae if she was still around, on New Year’s and she’d kiss him as the clock struck midnight, ringing in this new year _of them_ together.

Hell, she’d even let her mind wander to sappy thoughts of Valentine’s Day. A holiday which hadn’t been fun since elementary school when everyone gave everyone cards and it was a big party with games and sweets and no lessons for half of the day. She was going to look for that damn lingerie from that _Burlesque_ movie to surprise him. She’d even debated a stupid brunette wig just because she had this mental picture of how much he would laugh and smile and love her for it.

But summer’s going to end and she’ll lose him again. She’ll Skype him on the day of if he’s available. But with time zones and what not the holiday may already be over for him by the time she’s awake. She doesn’t need to sleep, right? It’s her last year of law school she should be used to the all-nighters by now.

But staring at him on a screen won’t be the same thing as having him here. And as hard as she tries not to think about it, as hard as she tries to just be here with him now, she can’t escape the sinking feeling that he’s leaving. That in two days she’ll wake up and he won’t be lying here next to her. And that he won’t be again for another six months.

Veronica curls back up against his side, trying to drape herself over him without waking him up. But he stirs at her movement, his hands lazily sliding up under the thin fabric of her tank top against her back. His eyes are still closed but his fingertips are gently brushing against her skin.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says softly.

He hums in response, not yet fully awake.

“Happy Independence Day,” she tells him. “Is it just me, or is this the only holiday we can ever manage to spend together?”

Logan hums again, still not opening his eyes. “You were at our Christmas Party one year. The one where my dad got shot.”

“I wasn’t at your party, I invited myself to your poker game to solve a case and win all your money to buy my dad a nice present.”

He huffs. “We went to that Halloween party together.”

“True, true, you’re right.”

He yawns, finally opening his eyes to look at her. “I should be home for Valentine’s Day.”

Her thoughts backtrack to buying the _Burlesque_ lingerie. Now it’s going to double as a welcome home surprise.

“Don’t make dinner reservations, we’re not leaving this bed,” she tells him.

He grins down at her. “My kind of holiday.”

She kisses his chest. “Mine too.”

“I do actually have plans for us today though.”

Veronica twists her head to look up at him. “You’re the one from out of town and _you_ made plans for the day?”

He shrugs. “I know a guy.”

“And what does this guy do?”

“Retired Navy Officer. Now he owns one of those fancy party boats you can rent to take out on the Hudson. He agreed to take us out to watch the fireworks tonight. We’re just crashing some girl named Samantha’s party.”

“We’re crashing a yacht party?” she asks with a smirk. “The 09’er in you just jumped out.”

Logan laughs, and she smiles at the feeling of his chest rumbling underneath her. “Nah, we’re just there for the view not the party.”

“Is this party boat big enough that we can go undetected?”

“Don’t know, haven’t seen it.”

“Logan –”

“You worry too much, Vee. Just enjoy the ride.”

* * *

Three days out of the year, Central Park allows you to grill and barbeque like it’s your own backyard: Memorial Day, the 4th of July, and Labor Day. A group of her classmates are having a barbeque at Sheep Meadow within the park, and she’d promised them she’d drop by.

“We’re just going so you can show me off,” Logan teases as they climb up out of the subway and back into the hot July sun.

“Have to let everyone know I didn’t just make you up while I’m pining over my military boyfriend all semester.”

“You’ll pine for me?”

“Obviously,” she smirks, bumping her hip into his before reaching for his hand.

She leads him into the park, watching as he lets his eyes slip closed in the sun for a moment, taking in the heat. Ever the Southern California boy. She wonders how he’d fair here in NYC during the winter. Would he be one of those macho types who refuse to wear a heavy coat even when it’s below freezing? Or would he react to it like she had, taking to layers upon layers and cursing at her younger self for complaining about 50 degree weather?

“So, who all am I meeting again?” Logan asks, opening his eyes.

“Hannah and Alex and Jill and Corbin and I think Shawn said he would stop by.”

“Boy Alex or girl Alex?”

She smirks. “Boy. Why? Sizing up your competition?”

“Maybe…”

Veronica laughs. “Well Alex is dating Hannah and Corbin is dating Jill. Shawn is the only single one. But don’t worry, he’s not my type.”

“You have a type?”

She nods. “Tall for one thing. And muscular. Military man with a troubled past and famous dead parents. Likes to call me Bobcat.”

“That’s quite the niche you’ve got there.”

She shrugs. “I know what I like.”

“I just tend to go for blondes.”

She elbows him gently in the side. “I’ve noticed.”

They make it to the opening of the Sheep Meadow and the area is crawling with people. The air smells deliciously like barbeque and the sound of laughter can be heard in all directions.

“How are we supposed to find them in this?” Logan asks, narrowly ducking out of the way as a frisbee flies at his head.

She laughs, tugging him along. “Hannah told me where they were, I’ll find them.”

Sure enough, she spots them after a few minutes, watching as some girl she’s never seen before throws a drink in Shawn’s face. Typical. Her very own Dick Casablancas. Wasn’t one of them enough for one lifetime?

“V. Mars you made it!” Shawn shouts when he sees her, lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe off his face.

“And you managed to piss off yet another woman, I see,” she shouts back. “What’d you do this time? Ask to see her tits?”

“Please, I have more class than that.”

“Do you?” Jill asks. “Because you’ve asked to see mine on at least five separate occasions.”

“Dude. Not cool,” Corbin says, shaking his head and pointing a barbeque skewer at him.

“Relax, she’s never done it,” Shawn mumbles.

“Dick 2.0,” Logan whispers in her ear. “Yeah, definitely not your type.”

She smiles, leading him the rest of the way to the spot where her friends have set up the picnic. “Everyone, this is Logan. Logan, this is everyone.”

There’s a chorus of “hi’s” and Veronica feels him press into her side just a little bit tighter. Surely, he’s not feeling shy. So, what is it then? Overprotective?

“I like this one,” Hannah stage-whispers. “Much cuter than your last boyfriend.”

She watches as Logan’s chest puffs up a bit.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he doesn’t need it,” Veronica says, smirking up at him.

“Veronica tells us you’re in the Navy,” Alex starts, flipping a burger on the grill. “So is my cousin. Any chance your paths have crossed?”

Logan shoots Veronica a look and she nods in return. He leaves her side to go to talk to Alex and Corbin. She sits down at the picnic table with Hannah and Jill, watching as Shawn wanders off after a pair of twins in matching patriotic bikini tops.

“Is this your old high school boyfriend?” Jill asks.

“Yeah, he’s one of them,” Veronica nods.

“Not the one with the baby though,” Hannah clarifies. “Who’s probably like what? In Kindergarten by now?”

“Yeah, no. That was Duncan. I think he’s probably still in Australia.”

“So this one is the sex god?” Hannah asks slowly.

Veronica feels the heat of the blush on her cheeks. “I never called him that.”

“Oh but you did,” Jill reminds her. “Five tequila shots in.”

“Okay, fine,” she concedes. “Yes, he’s that one.”

“Good as you remembered?” Hannah asks, clearly taking in his frame and the muscles in his arms.

She sighs, following her friend’s gaze. “Better.”

Jill and Hannah exchange a glance.

“That explains the hickey on your neck,” Hannah says, pointing at it with her thumb. “When was the last time Corbin gave you one of those?”

“I’m going to go with never on that one. How about Alex?”

“Nothing in my recent memory, nope.”

She shakes her head, subconsciously rubbing a hand over the hickey. “Easy ladies, he’s taken. And so are both of you.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t still look,” Hannah hums, her eyes appraising Logan’s form once again. “What does he bench press?”

Jill snorts. “Like you know anything about bench pressing.”

“Not something I’ve asked,” Veronica laughs.

Logan catches her eye and smiles. She wants to keep him here like this too. Talking with her friends, maybe someday their mutual friends, who don’t know every sordid detail of their past lives and breakups. Feeling like they can have adult relationships and conversations and lives outside of the restraints of Neptune. Like she can have a part of her old world in her new world and not have to compromise anything. He seems so easy and relaxed, and she wants that for him. She wants that for both of them.

She doesn’t realize she’s completely tuned out her friends until she feels Hannah’s elbow connect with her side. “Stop with the eye sex for like two seconds and tell Alex how you want your burger cooked.”

She feels herself blush again as she responds to Alex, and even harder yet when sees Alex say something to Logan that has him looking at her in that way that he does. They’re the only two people in the park, everyone else just fades away.

“You’ve got it bad for this one,” Jill whistles. “School girl crush on steroids.”

“I love him,” Veronica tells her. “He’s it for me.”

Logan catches her eye again as she feels the thought settle into her. They’re working this time. There’s not going to be anybody else.

* * *

The yacht is, in fact, huge. Waiting amongst the throng of people waiting for it to dock, she feels more confident that they’ll go unnoticed. Nevertheless, she’s decided that she went to school with Samantha. Wherever that was…

“Are you used to parties like this?” she asks Logan as people start to board.

“Parties where I know two people or private yacht parties?”

“Both.”

He laughs, his hand resting on the small of her back as they press forward onto the boat. “We’ll keep to ourselves, I promise.”

Logan leads her over to his Naval buddy and introduces her. She thanks him for letting them crash before Logan leads her up to a secluded part of the top deck. They lean against the railing facing the skyline, one of his arms draped over her back.

“I like your law school friends,” he tells her. “They seem like a good group.”

Veronica nods. “They are. They’ve helped me through a lot over the past few years.”

“Good. I’m glad you have people. Even if one of them is the East Coast version of Dick.”

“He’s _your_ friend,” she reminds him.

“Yeah, but Shawn is _yours_.”

“What can I say? We’re good at collecting strays.”

“Probably because we’re strays ourselves.”

She shakes her head. “We’ve found our places in this world. I’ve got my people, on both coasts.”

“Which coast do I represent?”

She hums, pushing herself off the railing to wrap both her arms around him in a side hug. “Home.”

She hears the hitch in his breath, feels the feather-light brush of his lips against her hair.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave you tomorrow,” he says softly. “I really don’t want to go.”

“Any chance they’d let you call in sick?”

He laughs. “I wish.”

“I had to ask.”

They grow quiet as the firework show starts, holding each other as the sky lights up full of colors and glittering sparks. They don’t move after the finale ends and the smoke settles into the sky. They don’t move as the party below them cheers and applauds.

“You know if I believed in all of that one true love, love of my life, soulmate bullshit, you’d be mine,” she says softly.

She hears his breath hitch again. “But since you don’t believe in it, what am I?”

She shrugs against his chest. “Some guy I’m really attached to.”

He laughs at that. “I love you too, Veronica.”

* * *

She can’t let go of him at Penn. He’s going to accidentally miss his train (again) because she can’t manage to let go. She’s wearing that grey hoodie of his she’s always loved, he managed to keep that promise right along with the paperclip chain necklace. Even though it’s way too hot to be wearing it in July, it’s at least raining today so that helps. And he’s spritzed it with an extra dosage of his cologne. She wants to be wrapped up in him even after he has to slip his arms away. So, she intends to basically live in this hoodie until it stops smelling like him and only smells like her. She wonders how long that will take. Definitely not as long as she needs it to.

“E-mail me as soon as you can,” she says into his shirt. “Just let me know you got there safely.”

“I will. I promise.”

“And Skype me as soon as you have a free moment. I don’t care if it’s 3 AM, I’ll be there, I’ll wake up.”

“I will. I promise,” he echoes again.

“And don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Her hands fist into the back of his shirt, the long sleeves of his hoodie bunching up around her knuckles. “And –”

Her voice breaks and she trails off.

_And don’t forget about me_.

He squeezes her tight and then releases her so he can look down into her eyes.

“Come back to me,” she says softly instead. She knows he won’t forget her. Knows that he’s just as much hers as she is his.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading along with me on this story. I've enjoyed writing this little universe for them so much, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much. I feel like I have more to say with this story, and if there's interest, I'd like to write a sequel in the future and create a series out of it. But for now, I have a few other stories I want to tell before I come back and revisit their NYC lives. I've got six months anyway before Logan comes back from duty. ;) And thank you again for all of your kind comments, they never fail to make my day. :)


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